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#i lied last thought.. i really want to make a documentary again
barkingangelbaby · 24 days
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wanna play the sims soooo baaaaad but bg3 takes up so much space I can't update it </3 maybe I'll ask N to help me clean out some stuff bc I simply Do Not Know things about computers lmao
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ja3yun · 2 months
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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.6
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brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (m. rec), fingering, dirty talk, switch!ynhoon leaning on dom!hoon, mentions of panic attacks and anxiety, unloving mother, confrontation, anything else lmk! ch. 6 synopsis: after sunghoon's injury, you're making it your mission to care for him, but a surprise visits from his mum and shocking revelations lead you to question everything you have ever felt. wc: 16.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: surprise! i am gifting you this all a day early <3 i have so much to do over the weekend so you can thank my work for scheduling me crazy hours for this early update. ynhoon stans...i'm sorry. this chapter is a rollercoaster so buckle yourselves in. thank you so much for the love on the last chapter, seeing all your reactions to minhee was...yeah. again, likes, reblogs, feedback is always appreciated!
The day after the incident, you finally summon the courage to visit Sunghoon.
You’ve been in an emotional battle with your head and your heart, wrestling with the decision of whether to give him space or to be there for him during this setback in his career. As his girlfriend, you know you should show support when he needs it most, so you listen to your heart. 
However, you’re still conflicted about one thing: whether to reveal Minhee's involvement in the reason for his injury. The whole ordeal yesterday has left a bad taste in your mouth. Minhee and your mum had planned this sabotage but you have no clue why.
You sense there's more to this than meets the eye, something you don't comprehend, so you’re choosing to keep it hidden for the time being. It's not an easy decision because you've never lied to Sunghoon before but your mind rationalises it as a temporary withholding of information rather than a flat-out lie.
On your way out, you double-check you have everything, but while you’re preoccupied with checking your trusted lip gloss is in your bag, you bump into Minhee.
The atmosphere around you is thick with tension as your eyes meet. You’ve spent the entire night going back and forth in your mind as to why Minhee would do this, mostly because you want to believe he’s a decent human being who wouldn’t sabotage someone else for his own success. 
That’s the part you can’t wrap your head around, the idea that this is for his benefit because there is nothing to gain except getting Sunghoon benched for Nationals. 
Would he stoop so low just to get a better chance at winning first place? It’s so out of character for him. Minhee has always worked exceptionally hard to get the things he deserves, which was evidenced only in the last month with the extra hours practising and perfecting his routine. No logical person would put in hours and hours of grafting just to take the easy way out and eliminate their biggest competition. Even when you both watched the documentary about Tonya Harding, he was the first to say how stupid it would be for anyone to sabotage another skater because the ban would never be worth it if you really loved the sport.
Maybe you just don’t know your brother as well as you think you do, maybe this is his true side coming out. After all, he didn’t know about making it on the Olympic team if he skated well yesterday, and since Minhee’s dream is to be placed on the South Korean skating team, getting Sunghoon out of the way is a sure way to guarantee a spot - he could have conjured up this scheme with your mum.
It’s these conflicting thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind as you look him up and down. Regardless of any reason, he still did what he did, so you snub him, walking past in haste.
“Y/N, where are you going? Why do you have a bag?” he questions your pink overnight bag that you use for long weekends away at Rina’s. You ignore him and boost down the flight of stairs to get your shoes on, “Are you going to his?”
The tinge of sadness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed, it’s similar to yesterday although anger has seemingly flushed from him, replaced with a guilty conscience. 
“You know I am so why are you asking?” you spit back.
“Are you going to tell him?” he queries quietly.
You can practically feel his heart gaining speed as he asks the question. He knows if you tell Sunghoon, his career is effectively over. It’s why you have such conflicting thoughts about telling your boyfriend because until you know the whole story, is it really worth ending Minhee’s future like that so easily? 
Standing up, you grab your coat, “Why shouldn’t I?” The question is posed to let Minhee tell you exactly what is going on, it’s up to him to let you in on the reason for his actions.
He rubs his face in his hands and shuts his eyes, you can see he’s fighting himself, “I…I don’t know.”
“Really?” you scoff, “You aren’t even going to give me a reason not to say anything? Then what was this all for, Minhee?”
He doesn’t answer, hanging his head down in shame. It’s the glimpses of him like this that are what are going to stop you from telling Sunghoon. The look on his face wasn’t just guilt he got caught but for his actions.
“Tell Mum I’ll be home in a few days,” With that, you walk out and slam the door behind you. 
You take two buses to get to Sunghoon’s side of town which takes about an hour if there’s traffic but luckily for you, there wasn’t. As you stand outside Sunghoon's flat, your heart leaps with excitement and concern. The rhythmic beat of rock music in your headphones works as a distraction. Sunghoon taught you this trick when you first started to hang out, the loudness of the base helps ease your mind, especially if it was flooded with any nagging thoughts about Minhee. 
You've come all this way to be by Sunghoon's side, realising that your attention should be on him rather than getting caught up in the complexity of Minhee's situation. You slightly curse yourself for not just being with him earlier, you should have been here as soon as he got home yesterday.
Chapping the door, you wait for someone to answer; It’ll either be Jay or Jake because you know Sunghoon will be resting, or at least you hope he will be, your boyfriend always had a habit of defying instructions. The loophole he found to start this whole relationship was a huge giveaway.
The door opens, revealing Jake on the other side. His eyes are filled with relief as he recognises your face, "Hey," he says with a small smile, "Sunghoon's resting, but he'll be glad to see you."
You nod in understanding, a part of you thought maybe the almost 16-hour silence would have put him in a sour mood with you. As you enter the quaint flat, you remove your earbuds and catch sight of Jay in the living room, absorbed in his reading. The subdued atmosphere tells you that everyone is attempting to retain a sense of normalcy in the aftermath of recent events.
It’s funny, you didn’t consider how his closest friends would have reacted, this must be hard for them too considering the three of them are inseparable, each in their own field of sports; Jake in football and Jay in rugby, all of them meeting in the same major at University. You’re appreciative of them, they could empathise with him in ways you couldn’t.
The short walk to Sunghoon's room feels like an eternity as your mind races with thoughts about how to comfort him. How do you approach this? Especially knowing what Minhee did. 
Why are you always harbouring a secret from someone you love?
You gently push the door ajar, revealing Sunghoon lying on his bed, his leg bandaged and propped up on a pillow. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, meet yours, and a small smile plays on his lips as he registers your presence, “Baby,” he exhales softly and outstretched his arms. 
Closing the door, you walk over to him and envelop him in a tight squeeze. You let the gravity of the situation sink in as he nuzzles his nose into your neck, it wasn’t just his ankle that was hurting but his heart.
“I should have come earlier, I’m sorry,” You confess, drawing back to sit on the edge of the bed, “I didn’t know if you needed space or not.” 
Sunghoon shuffles to sit up straighter, wincing as his ankle subsequently moves with him, “I get it, Sweets, really. You don’t have to apologise…it’s a weird situation, y’know?” He widens his eyes for a moment, inviting understanding without verbalising the implications. It was a fucked up scenario, Sunghoon hasn’t once had an injury in his whole career.
Interlocking your fingers with his, you ask the dreaded question, “What did the doctor say?”
“I have 4 days to live,” he jokes in an attempt to make the air lighter between you both but you don’t find it very amusing. You know he’s hurting inside and you can’t stand when he hides it. Sunghoon is strong and dependable but he rarely admits any vulnerability unless it’s got anything to do with you.
Slapping his chest, you narrow your eyes, “Shut up, I’m serious, Hoonie.”
Sunghoon sighed and looked down at the damaged ankle, “It was just a twist, I should be okay in 1 to 2 weeks but that can take me right up to Nationals. I can’t be on my ass for that long, Y/N.” Anger seeps into him, almost as if he’s realising the severity of what lack of training will do to his chances at Nationals.
Can he even go to Nationals now? Did Minhee and your mum get what they wanted? Maybe you should just tell him about Minhee, an eye for an eye and all that other stuff. 
But you need to investigate first and figure it all out before you jump the gun on this. It’s difficult considering Sunghoon is in front of you, cursing at himself for not stopping the practice, this wasn’t his fault. 
As his mouth keeps moving, you slowly start to tune back into what he’s saying once his skate is mentioned, “You saw my skates the night before, they were perfectly fine!” he exasperates, pointing to them at the bottom of the bed. Somehow, being confronted with the evidence of your brother’s crime brings a moistness to your mouth as if you could vomit right there.
The way your face goes a little paler causes Sunghoon to stop his rant, his hand bringing your face to meet his, “Sweets? What’s wrong?” You’ve spent so much time with him that you’re starting to curse how he can read you easily. If he catches a flash of guilt or withholding in your eyes, he’s never going to drop it.
Standing up with purpose, you advance over to where the skates are, curling your fingers around them. "I think having these in your line of sight isn't healthy for you mentally. I'm going to put them away," you say, opening his cupboard and tucking them in. In actuality, you feel compelled to throw them away, realising that their main purpose now is to serve as a horrible memory. With your back to him, you muster the bravery to bring up the topic of Nationals.
“Coach Lee said if I rest it and can get back on the ice just before the competition, hammer in a few practice sessions and see how it goes since I’ve already officially qualified anyway,” The perks of being the best skater in the city, you suppose, “But Coach Kim says it’s too risky and that I could break my ankle if I go back too fast.” 
"Did the coaches say anything about Nationals? Can you compete?" The avoidance of eye contact becomes a shield, a method to ease the weight of the question from your chest. The guilt you harbour is overwhelming as if you were the one responsible for shattering his skate.
It seems you’ve not been the only one fighting with conflict.
"What are you going to do?" you inquire, returning to his side, your hand soothingly rubbing his thigh, a silent promise of support regardless of his decision.
He bites his lip, determination sparking in his eyes. "I'm going to Nationals, I don't care," he declares with unwavering resolve. "I need to do this. I've finally rediscovered my passion, and I can't bear to watch it disappear again, Y/N. I know that if I miss Nationals and the Olympics, I’ll lose the love I have for it, I feel it."
Nodding in understanding, you convey your unwavering belief in him, your smile a testament to your faith. Taking his hand, you bring it to your lips, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles, the action makes his heart skip.
For Sunghoon, the past few hours have been consumed by self-loathing, but your presence breathes new life into him. He hadn’t decided to try to get fit for Nationals right after the doctor gave him the news, it was only after he saw you walk through that door. You were the reason he wanted to prove he could do it because you always brought him back to life.
"Can I help with anything?" you offer, breaking the tender moment.
"You can give me a kiss," he cheekily responds, a playful smirk gracing his face.
Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation, you shuffle closer to his side and lean in, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. The synchronicity of your hearts creates a natural rhythm as they engage in their own intimate conversation.
Grabbing your sides, he guides you to sit over his lap, the new angle giving you more leeway to fully capture his lips, melting them with yours. His hands snake under your top, rubbing the skin of your back, grabbing lightly at your sides.
“I love you, Hoonie,” you murmur into his mouth and you feel him smile happily.
“I love you so much more, you’ve got no clue,” he presses your chest flush to his creating little distance between you. As he goes to buck his hips up, the pressure on his ankle makes him cuss and yelp out in pain.
Drawing back, you look behind you, “Sunghoon! Can you watch your ankle please?” You argue with him, trying to climb off but he holds you there in his lap.
"No, don't," he whispers, stealing another kiss, "I need this ankle to heal up quickly." Groaning, he shifts it into a more comfortable position.
"You'll be back on the ice in no time, baby," you offer a reassuring smile, but he looks at you with confusion.
“I wasn’t talking about that. I mean so I can fuck you,” The tender moment takes an unexpected turn as he expresses a different desire. The tone of his voice was offended, Sunghoon didn’t understand why that also wasn’t your first thought. Sometimes, he really is just a man.
His admission catches you off guard, and you playfully chide him, "You can wait, Hoonie." Cradling his face in your arms, you rub his nose with yours.
He doesn’t seem to like that idea.
______
"Hoonie, baby, do you want a cup of tea?" you call out from the kitchen.
You've been taking care of Sunghoon for the past five days, tending to every one of his needs. Part of this is due to your position as his girlfriend, but there is a deeper purpose lurking beneath the surface. You are well aware that your attentiveness is tinged by a desire to make up for your brother's mistake. You don't know why you're carrying the burden for your brother but you're living with it.
As you hear Sunghoon's ‘yes please’ response, you set about preparing the warm brew. The rhythmic clinking of the spoon against his mug becomes a backdrop to the quiet surrounding the flat. 
“Y/N, can you make me one too?” Jay asks while shoving his gym bag on the counter beside you, a flask in his hand. 
Accepting the flask you fill it up with some tea from the pot and add a dash of vanilla milk, just how he likes it.
Living with the three boys for nearly a week hasn’t been as challenging as you once thought. They’re respectable, clean enough, and have created unspoken boundaries to make sure you are as comfortable as possible. Obviously, you knew Jay and Jake before you moved in temporarily to look after your boyfriend but this continuous time with them has made you realise that Sunghoon surrounds himself with only good people, a reflection of his character.
Handing Jay back the flask, he raised it in a silent expression of thanks before walking away, “See you both later. I made extra lunch so eat it before it goes off,” he points to the pot of curry on the stove before he twirls out the door. 
Entering the room with the steaming cup in hand, you find Sunghoon gazing out the window, lost in thought. He has been getting better at a rapid pace, now able to stand confidently on his ankle, albeit not for a long period of time, particularly when he’s standing still, however, the progress he’s making for his recovery is astounding. 
He had a home visit from the doctor at Belmore to check his ankle and he said he might as well be a superhero with how well he is doing. He also said Sunghoon had a high likelihood of getting back in the rink for Nationals, as long as he kept doing what he was doing.
His attention turns from the outside world to you as he graciously accepts the tea from your hands, "Thanks, Sweets," he murmurs, planting a tender peck on your lips before making his way back to the bed. Seating himself at the edge, he glances over at you, curiosity in his eyes as you plonk down on his desk chair.
"Are you going to class today? Jay could have given you a lift," he inquires, taking a sip of his tea, his gaze lingering over the rim as he watches you.
You've willingly abandoned everything - school, work, even Rina and Allen. The neglect of your actual life becomes a mere consequence of your guilt-ridden state; until Sunghoon is better, focusing on anything else seems impossible. You've informed your professors that you're completing all assignments from home, citing an illness that keeps you from attending classes. Another lie to add to your bank.
Shaking your head, “No, not today. I’m all caught up anyway.”
With a sceptical look, he puts the mug down and walks over to you, each of his arms on the rests of the chair, effectively trapping you in, “Sweets, I love you and I love that you’ve taken care of me this week, but you’ve done enough. You can go to University and I promise I won’t break.”
Deep down, you know he’s right but your guilty conscience aside, this was also a lot more fun. The ability to spend everyday with Sunghoon, waking up to him and making him breakfast in exchange for him making dinner, the random shows you’ve both binged and laughed at, learning every intricate detail of him - it’s been the best time you’ve had in years. It gave you a glimpse into the future of what it would be like to live together.
You meet Sunghoon's gaze, your eyes reflecting a mixture of reluctance, "I know," you concede, "but it's been...nice. Taking care of you, being here with you.” 
“Trust me, I appreciate it more than anything, but I’m fine I promise,” Sunghoon tries to give you some comfort by looking into your eyes and assuring you. You can feel his genuine care for you and your own life. He watches your eyes shift as you look away from him, “It’s not just me, is it? There’s something else going on?”
People on Twitter cry out for a man as attentive as him, they crave it because men these days don’t notice anything. Taylor Swift and Adele aren’t top artists on people’s Spotify because men are great at listening. 
But right now you wish he wasn’t so attuned to you, that he didn’t know you so well because you don’t have the energy, nor the words, to explain to him that you know he’ll be fine, you just can’t face going home.
Because that was the real issue here, wasn’t it? 
You can lie to yourself all you want but that house is the last place you want to be. That house is a labyrinth of unresolved issues. Minhee's actions have put you in a difficult position with your boyfriend, secrets linger in the cracks of the house that only he and your mother are privy to, and you feel like a stranger in your own home. Here, in Sunghoon's space, you can simply pretend that the world consists solely of you and him. It's a comforting illusion, shielding you from complicated family drama.
Sunghoon bends down, despite the strain on his ankle, trying to get eye level with you,
“Baby, you can talk to me.”
"You need your eyebrows fixed," you say quickly, seeking to change the subject. His astonished reaction causes you to quickly break into laughter, "They're getting a little wild, Hoonie."
He tilts his head and furrows his brows. "You want me to believe that my eyebrows are what's bothering you, not something a little more serious?"
You eventually stare into his eyes, mentally pleading with him to drop it and accept that your concern is indeed about his brows. The last thing any of you need is for you to reveal the information you're keeping hidden; it might jeopardise the calmness of this week and, potentially, your entire relationship.
His eyes soften and a small but understanding smile tugs at his lips. He relents, knowing you’ll speak to him sooner or later about your worries, “Alright, come on then,” he slaps his palms against his knees and slowly rises, ignoring the shooting pain that courses from his ankle to his knee. It might only have been a twist but fuck did it hurt.
With sparkling eyes and relief, you follow him into the bathroom, excited to get to work on his brows. It might have been a quick scapegoat to change the course of conversation but his brows did actually need to be tidied up. In only a week they’ve become unruly, the true curse of bushy, perfect, luscious eyebrows.
Opening the cabinet door, he reaches for a new hair shaper; you had bought the pack for yourself just in case that one chin hair made an appearance while you stayed here. He goes to hand it to you but yanks it away before you can grab it, “If you even think of shaving them thin I will 100% break up with you,” his tone tells you he’s joking but his eyes are deadly serious.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say with a lighthearted giggle and stand in front of him, putting a few dollops of his moisturiser on your fingertip before rubbing it on the area you plan on attacking. There aren’t many straggling hairs but his eyebrows are a trademark, you can’t let them sit even the slightest bit unruly. 
Taking the razor you pop the cap off and reach up to sculpt his brows. Sunghoon is tall but it’s never really been an issue until now as your line of sight is constantly covered by your hand, no matter how you angle yourself. With a little pout, you assess your options.
Sensing the struggle, he chuckles and decides to take matters into his own hands, literally. He sweeps you off your feet, lifting you effortlessly and placing you on the bathroom sink, “Is that better, Sweets?” From this elevated position, you now have a perfect vantage point to tackle his eyebrows. 
Nodding, you place one kiss on his nose before beginning your venture into his bushy brows, cautious not to shave too far in or knick him. With each swipe, you concentrate more and more, pleased with your work. A sudden surge of adoration pings in your heart as you see the way he’s looking at you, accompanied by his thumbs tracing over your hips. In times like this, you wonder how you could ever be so lucky to have someone like him love you.
While you continue working, Sunghoon is thinking the exact same thing. It’s so strange how as soon as he started to spend time with you all those months back, a valve opened up in his heart to pour love out, and as he’s observing you now, he realises that he’s now just flooded with emotions all over his body. He’s happier, more patient, less angry, and just filled to the brim with adoration for not just you, but his life. 
You wouldn’t know it because he hid it well but he was losing himself before he met you. The pressures of skating and university, the coldness from his mother, and the constant image of being arrogant and obnoxious that was posted about him in the media, it all got to him more than he let on. Now, none of that matters; he loves skating again, you actually make him study with you so he’s on top of all his assignments, and the opinions of his mother and journalists are no longer an issue for him - he doesn’t care anymore. 
“I really do love you, y’know,” he says out of the blue, just as you begin on his left brow.
A chuckle escapes your lips because it was so painfully obvious he did, you’ve never felt more seen or cherished in your entire life. Fair enough, the bar was way down to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, but still, he made you feel on cloud 9 all the time. Even if you argue over different opinions, you never belittle one another or get mad, you talk it out rather than fight. It’s a dynamic you’ve not seen in your personal life before - when your dad was around, he and your mum would scream at one another or just never speak, the complete opposite of you and Sunghoon.
“I love you, too, Sunghoon,” you beam at him so widely you’re showing your gums. If anyone saw the way both of you were in the bathroom, giggling messes and smiling at each other like this, they would slag you off easily. But no one else is here, just you and him. If only it could always be like this.
Getting back to the task at hand, you finish up shaving off the last few bits and tidying the brows up, sculpting them like you’re Michelangelo and he’s David. They look good in your unprofessional opinion but it wasn’t yours that mattered, “I’m all done, take a look.”
As you go to jump off of the sink, he holds you still and shakes his head. Instead, he snakes his arms around your figure and pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looks in the mirror behind you. The intimate action has you instinctively wrapping your arms and legs around his body, clinging to him.
You feel him move his head side to side to inspect, “They’re perfect, Sweets. How much do I owe you?” he jokes, squeezing you before pulling back. 
“I charge one kiss per brow,” you tilt your head and bite your lip.
“As long as I’m your only client,” he looks at you with that same playful serious stare, “I’ll even tip you,” he smirks, pushing your core against him. 
Since the injury, you and Sunghoon haven’t had sex and it’s not through a lack of trying. Every time you both get into the swing of things, he either puts unnecessary pressure on his ankle or hits it off something. It’s stupid because at the end of the day, it’s his ankle and not his hip but you hadn’t realised how important a working ankle is during the deed. Even when you attempted to give him a blowjob, the tension in his leg went straight down into it. 
He feels confident in his ankle today, there’s no way it can cockblock him for the 5th day in a row. He wouldn’t let it happen. 
His plump lips cloak yours as his hands grip your ass and manually grind you onto him, eliciting a moan from you. Between your pyjama shorts and his gym shorts, there isn’t much material between you, so you feel each other’s need for one another easily. 
Dancing your fingertips along the nape of his neck, he shivers, a grunt coming from his mouth when you grip the bottom of his hair.
Your attempt at intimacy is short-lived however when you hear keys rattling in the door but Sunghoon won’t let his roommate stop him, “It’s Jake, ignore him,” he continues to kiss you eagerly, the grip on your ass is so tight you’re bound to have marks.
However, when an unexpected voice echoes in the apartment, you both freeze, hearts in your throats.
“Sunghoon? Where are you?” His mother bellows, locking the door behind her.
She hasn’t bothered to come see her son since the accident, once she knew he would be fine, she left him to his own devices. So why is she here now?
Panicked, you push him off, the sudden movement makes him stumble over his ankle, “Shit, baby, sorry,” you whisper, quickly jumping down from the unit. You can hear her footsteps exploring the living room and kitchen.
She still didn’t know about you both, and as terrified as you were of Minhee finding out, Sunghoon was of equal measure about his mother, claiming she was psychotic enough to hire a hitman on you for ‘distracting’ him. Your boyfriend said it as a joke but he was genuinely scared of her reaction to the news. 
Cupping your cheeks, Sunghoon gives you another kiss, and then another, and then another, “Baby, stay here and keep quiet. I’ll get rid of her,” he keeps dragging you to the door, placing urgent kisses all over your face as he backs up. You should tell him to stop considering he’s risking it but his lips are so addictive, “Fuck, what if I pretend I’m not here?”
“Go, Hoonie,” you’re acutely tuned into her footsteps coming up the hall. 
Opening the door, he gives you three more short kisses before turning around, bumping straight into his mum. She startles, taking a step back, clearly caught off guard by his sudden presence, "Sunghoon, why didn't you answer when I called?" she queries.
“Sorry mum, I was having a piss” 
You roll your eyes as you hear him from outside. There had to have been a better way to say that. Their voices get distant as they walk into his room across the hall but you can still hear them enough with your ear pressed against the door. Is it morally wrong to eavesdrop on the conversation between mother and son? Yes, but you’re nosey and none of the three boys keep magazines in the bathroom for light reading.
As Mrs. Park surveys the room, a disapproving huff escapes her lips, exhibiting her dissatisfaction with its current state, "How are you?" she asks in a monotone voice.
Sunghoon shrugs, “Fine, I guess. What are you doing here?” His arms are crossed defensively and his eyebrow quirked, “And where did you get a key?”
Of all the years he’s lived with Jay and Jake, his mum hasn’t so much as stepped foot into the flat so this was a weird situation he’s found himself in. 
She turns to inspect the shelves of his room, running a finger to collect dust, crumbling it away in disgust, “I made a copy one of the days you were training,” Twisting back to face him she continues, “And can’t a mother drop by to see her son when he’s injured?”
Sunghoon, clearly sceptical, could almost burst into laughter, "I got injured almost a week ago, and I could have easily texted you about my condition," he retorts, his narrowed eyes reflecting suspicion.
“I might have been busy rescheduling your appointments but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Sunghoon,” she doesn’t flinch and neither does he.
The relationship between them is spread thin at this point, merely a transaction of small talk and managerial duties, he acknowledges this and so does she, so the act she’s putting on right now isn’t fooling anyone, “Mum, we’re not exactly known for heart-to-heart chats. What’s the real reason you’re here?”
Scoffing, she matches his stance, crossing her arms, subsequently closing herself off, “I think it was sabotage.” 
You wish you weren’t listening now. Does she know it was Minhee? There’s no way she could, maybe she’s just a sceptical person…or perceptive.
The tension in the room rises as Sunghoon tries to process her words, “Mum, this isn’t one of those bad dramas you watch during the week, my skate snapped, that’s all it was. Plus, no one hates me enough to do that,” he barters with her, the idea that this was anything more than a freak accident made him laugh. 
In the bathroom, you’re freaking out and regretting all your decisions to keep it a secret. If you had just told him, he would have had some respect for you but you know for certain if she does know that it was Minhee and tells all to her son, he’ll lose every ounce of regard for you. 
This is bad.
His mum shakes her head, dropping her arms and going back to snooping around his room, “I think it was Minhee…or Y/N. She is always around that rink when she can’t even skate, that’s a bit suspicious, no?” 
The accusation makes Sunghoon’s blood boil. You have been the one to look after him throughout all of this and his mother dares to think for a second it was your doing he’s in this position. All the care and love you’ve shown him this week alone is enough for the insinuation to filter in one of Sunghoon’s ears and out the other. 
Paying him no mind, his mother continues to the other side of his room, “The whole family is bad news but her? She’s up to something, far too quiet that one,” look on her face only grows with more disgust as she spouts her words.
“You’re ridiculous! Y/N wouldn’t do that. You don’t know shit about her,” he protests angrily, his fists balling by his sides as he tries to remain some sort of composure. Sunghoon would be dead before he let anyone speak badly about you. 
“Fucking stop it. What is your obsession with the Kangs?” He knows he shouldn’t have asked considering you’re in the bathroom and could probably hear every word of this conversation but it was more rhetorical than genuine curiosity.
However, his mum will take any opportunity to slander your family, “Her mother sleeping with the judge to get that scoundrel of a boy a higher ranking at Junior Regionals is enough of a reason. Her whoring around nearly cost you the final.”
Junior Regionals, 2018, the year your dad left because of a rumour your mum had slept with one, possibly two of the judges. Of course, it wasn’t true, Minhee worked incredibly hard to get high scores that year but Mrs. Park couldn’t accept that your brother almost knocked Sunghoon off the top spot. The rumour spread so fast that it almost tarnished everything that Minhee had worked for, there were investigations and everything - judges got fired, your dad divorced your mum, and it was a rough time for everyone in your family.
Sunghoon swallows down what he actually wants to say, “Is it really that serious? It was like what? 5 years ago and so what if I did come second to him? Would it be the end of the world?” 
“If her little plan had worked the way she wanted it to, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to work with Mr. Son and get the sponsorship that propelled you to fame, you’d be a nobody like Minhee.” 
Rage, unfiltered, pure toxic rage overcomes you. She can say anything she wants about you, even your mum but never Minhee. He has done nothing but grind on that ice for years to prove himself as a main competitor since the accusations. Minhee is top of his league for a reason, he is just as good as Sunghoon is. Did he work on his humble and modest persona to make brownie points in the press? Sure, but his talent can never be questioned.
Reaching for the knob of the door, you’re about to barge in and tell her where to stick her opinion when you hear Sunghoon, “Are my talents not good enough? Did you ever think that Mr. Son wanted to work with me because he saw my skating and thought I’d make a good ambassador?” His voice is pained.
"Be real, Sunghoon," his mother says dismissively, and a heavy silence falls over the room. Your heart hurts for him, and your hand falls to your side, the weight of their conversation temporarily overriding your desire to intervene.
The admiration you’ve held for Sunghoon’s skating since you were little was a testament to his skills. His fluidity and grace were unrivalled, and he was seen as an embodiment of potential by everyone. It's frustrating to witness his mother's lack of faith in his talents. It feels completely unjust that the one who should champion him the most fails to recognise the kind of athlete Sunghoon is.
Sunghoon's shoulders drop, the weight of his mother's doubts and lack of belief in his talents crashing down on him. He lets out a deep sigh as he struggles to find the words to express his disappointment and dissatisfaction. "Don't you get it, mum? All of my years of training, sacrifices, and everything, were all done to prove something. To prove that I can be more than what you expected,” he lets out a bitter laugh, looking up to the ceiling as if to hold in tears, “But I’ll never be good enough for you, will I?”
The room echoes with the heaviness of Sunghoon's emotions, the unspoken tension hanging in the air like a dense fog. As you listen, a profound empathy washes over you, recognising the pain of a son seeking validation from a parent who seems drastically out of reach. He was always so good at comforting you with your lack of self-esteem instilled by your mum because he knew. He knew how it felt to be seen as less than from your flesh and blood.
His mother remains motionless, her stare unwavering and detached. "Sunghoon, the world is cruel. How can you expect to survive if you can't handle critisism? You are skating on thin ice, both literally and figuratively. Your National top spot is up for grabs, this is serious, I don’t have time for your pity party.”
Sunghoon's jaw clenches, a mixture of frustration and resignation etched on his face. He had hoped for understanding but what did he expect from a mother like his? He gathers himself, not letting her words hinder him anymore today, “I’m fine, just go. You’ve checked in and laid your conspiracies on the table, you can go now.” 
Her gaze remains icy. "Fine? Is this what you call 'fine'? Being 20 years old, living with two delinquents, and a twisted ankle to boot? I came here to tell you about the sabotage to spur you on and give you a reason to get better for Nationals. Don’t you want to show up the person who tried to end your career?”
“No one tried to end my career, you’re fucking delusional!” He raises his voice and it makes you jump, the anger portraying in his voice is similar to when he beat up that guy at the party for touching you. Sunghoon never gets angry, not seriously, so you know he’s had enough, “You seem to have a lot of opinions about people I care about, just so you can justify your weird allegations.”
She raises a brow, “You ‘care’ for the Kangs? Is that what I’m hearing?” 
To be fair, it does sound strange if you don’t know the whole context, Minhee and Sunghoon don’t strike anyone as buddies and you and Sunghoon apparently haven’t spoken two words to one another. 
Sunghoon is so overcome with emotions he doesn’t stop himself, “Yeah, I care about them, Minhee is actually a decent guy who I just don’t see eye to eye with. And Y/N, she…she isn’t even any part of this, so keep her name out of your mouth, okay?”
Mrs. Park looks at him with scepticism, “I’m curious, Sunghoon, how you’ve suddenly become so protective over Y/N. What is she to you?” 
You can feel your heart ripping through your chest as your name bounces between their lips, you never wanted to change your name so much in your life. As your palms get sweaty, you hear nothing but silence.
The question hangs in the air, challenging Sunghoon to define the nature of his connection with you. For a moment, he seems caught between the impulse to reveal his true feelings and the desire to shield you from his mother's wicked ways.
“She’s someone who you don’t know and are making wild accusations about, sorry if i have some morals,” he states firmly, eyes unwavering as he stands his ground. He doesn’t want to add you further into this family drama, you’ve been dragged through it enough at no fault of your own.
Despite his best efforts to swerve you out, his mother drags you back in, “You like her, don’t you?” When Sunghoon doesn’t say anything, his mum cackles, “I should have known, all those nights at the rink were to see her, weren’t they?” 
If she wasn’t basically figuring out your secret relationship with her son, you would have given her some props - the woman is smart. 
Sucking his teeth, Sunghoon nods, “Yeah, so what? I’ve been seeing her and we’re happy, doesn’t that just prove your mad theory about her sabotaging my skate null and void?” 
Her eyes flash in disbelief for a moment before she finds her resolve, “You don’t know her, she could have done it. She would do anything for Minhee.”
You want to argue but she’s right, you would do anything. You’re literally hiding in a bathroom as they argue about someone deliberately breaking his skate knowing fine well it was your brother.
“I know her, mum.” 
"What could you possibly know about her?" she responds sharply, the scepticism written across her features
"I know she loves me, and I love her. She wouldn't do that," Sunghoon says firmly, his voice carrying a confidence that fills the room. In the long silence that follows, you can almost imagine his mother's jaw dropping, either that or she’s fainted.
Staring sternly at Sunghoon, she tightens her jaw, a silent attempt to regain control of the narrative slipping through her fingers, “You’re an immature child, Sunghoon, you don’t know what love is.”
“And you do?” he spits back.
For a while, you don’t hear anything except your heartbeat and the air coming through the toilet vent. It's as if the world around you has vanished, and stepping out of this bathroom will transport you to a reality similar to a dystopian movie where there are no survivors left.
This was not an argument meant for your ears, which weighs hard on your conscience. Guilt flows through you like an electric current, yet ironically, it's a conversation that is entirely about you and your family.
Frustration etches deeper lines onto Mrs. Park's face as Sunghoon doesn’t budge. She clicks her tongue and strides towards him, “Fine. But just know your father would be highly disappointed in you right now,” she pushes past him and storms out of the flat, leaving a heavy atmosphere in her wake.
Sunghoon’s heart wrenches at the thought, he feels sick. He’s only ever wanted to make his father proud and now his mum said that. He stands frozen, his gaze fixed on the ground. The weight of his mother's words hangs in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the room and Sunghoon's heart.
Shock doesn’t even begin to describe your state right now. There is no way she said his dad would be disappointed in him, she said that to spite him because he won the argument, it’s pitiful. Mrs. Park is supposed to be the adult in the situation, yet she handled it like a child. You hate her.
Turning the door handle, you ease your way out of the bathroom, careful not to startle your boyfriend. There’s not a lot you can do for him, her words are a wound that can’t be healed by hugs and kisses. But you have to try.
Tip-toeing into the room, you gingerly place a hand on his arm, “Hoonie?” He jumps slightly but doesn’t lift his eyes to look at you. As you circle to the front of him, you see the water in his eyes and his jaw clenched, holding in anger and hurt.
You reach up to touch his face, stroking his cheek in an attempt to loosen it up but you fail. He is trying to be so strong and not let his emotions overwhelm him but even if he’s fighting them on the outside, inside he is breaking.
“Baby, please don’t listen to her. She is so incredibly wrong,” you speak softly.
His eyes flicker to yours for a split second but it was a mistake, he can see the sympathy in your eyes and it makes him feel weak. He shouldn’t be affected by his mothers words so much, not after he vowed to stop caring about her opinions but the way she spoke so easily about his dad’s disappointment boiled him over the edge, not to mention how she dragged you through the dirt. He felt ashamed for some reason, “Look at me, Sunghoon.”
Pleading with him falls on deaf ears however because he doesn’t dare, knowing he’ll breakdown. Sunghoon has always held it together, even that day he sat rubbing your back on the bleachers, when you hit a nerve he switched from sad to joy in the space of a second, something he’s been so good at his whole life, so why is this influx of sadness any different.
Because she mentioned the two most important people in his life and how the relationships were stained with something negative. Sunghoon obviously knows you wouldn’t corrupt his career like that and he knows his dad won’t be disappointed in him but he can’t help his mothers words poisoning his brain. 
Exhaling slowly, you withdraw your hand from his face and trail it over his heart. It’s beats are irregular, swapping between a regular pace and missing a few pulses completely, his lungs are moving at a faster rate yet his nose and mouth are still.
“Sunghoon, hey, listen to me, okay?” You try to guide him to the chair behind him so he can sit but his feet remain sturdy, “Please, Hoonie, I think you’re going to have a panic attack or something so can you sit down for me?”
All the signs are there. Panic attacks are different for everyone and he might just be going through the motions, but you’re better safe than sorry. 
His entire attention is distant, absorbed in the chaos of his own mind. You can practically see the internal fight in his eyes, the conflict between the emotions and listening to his body. It’s scary because you’ve never seen him like this before.
Sunghoon finally relents, allowing you to guide him to the chair. You crouch down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees, trying to establish a connection. "There we go,” You learned about bringing people down from panic attacks in a mental health first aid course you took years ago. Granted you’ve never used any of the steps on anyone other than yourself, so now would be the perfect time to use it.
Knowing your boyfriend well, he loved it when you lay on top of him, the weight of you calmed him down if he was nervous about something, so, you figured he could benefit from deep pressure touch and if not, you’d try something else. Anything to stop him from hurting like this.
Straddling his lap on the chair, you bring him into a hug, tightening your arms so it is snug and not uncomfortable and hold him, soothing his back and whispering positive affirmations beside him.
You sit with him like that for about 15 minutes before he finally moves, his arms circling your waist and his face buries into your neck. He doesn’t sob or break down, he just holds you with the same force you are giving him. He finds some serenity in your touch and he can’t thank you enough. 
You wish he would just let it all out, to cry because he needs it, but you can’t push him - he copes in his own ways.
“I’m sorry you had to hear all that earlier,” Your heart tears as he mutters the words into the nape of your neck. He is the one in pain right now yet he’s apologising for your feelings that got hurt. Pulling back you see his sullen face as he finally looks at you, “She had no right to accuse you or Minhee like that, she was out of line.”
A lump forms in your throat but you force it back down. You can’t tell him now, not while he’s like this but fuck do you feel like a piece of shit right now. Every fibre of your body wants to tell him and relieve yourself of the burden on your shoulders, but now is not the time for that.
You plaster on a gentle smile and place your hands on his cheeks, “And she had no right to tell you your dad would be disappointed in you because I know for a fact that he isn’t. That man worshipped the ground you walkrd on, he still does. You’re everything he would want you to be.”
The words hit Sunghoon a little too hard, the ducts of his eyes filling again but he quickly blinks them away and clears his throat, shaking his head as if to rid him of any thoughts in his brain.
“Thank you, Y/N. For everything and I don’t just mean right now,” he pauses, collecting the correct words, “I mean for the past few months. I feel so…I don’t know, I can’t even describe it. I just know I’m lucky to have you.”
You jutt your bottom lip out and nod. Of course, you understood what he meant because you felt it too. His mum was certainly wrong about Sunghoon not knowing what love is, he’s experiencing it in ways people can only read about in books. You cherish each other as best friends, as lovers, as soulmates.
Tucking your hair behind your ear, he smiles genuinely, “Never leave me, yeah? You’re all I’ve got.”
You look at him, your eyes silently convey the depth of your care and commitment to him, “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me for a long, long time, all my snoring included,” both of you laugh, the tension and animosity that still lingered from the confrontation with his mother slowly but surely dissipating, “I am going to tell Jay and Jake about how you said that though. They’ll be highly offended.”
The joke settles in Sunghoon’s smile, “What can I do to keep you quiet?” 
You pretend to think, mockingly looking up at the ceiling as if to contemplate, “I think I’ll take the same toll as my eyebrow-shaping services. Two kisses and your secret is safe with me.”
If Sunghoon could imprint a single vision to his brain, it would be you right now with the loving smile you have adorning your face, “You drive a hard bargain, Sweets but I’ll pay up,” Leaning forward, he kisses you tenderly, holding your back for support. Your bodies melt together, any tension in your persons now evaporating as you lose yourselves in one another. 
His tongue makes its way into your mouth, licking you softly and with so much affection. You loved this side of Sunghoon, it proved to you that men could actually be soulful. He’s a ruby in a diamond world, you’re certain.
“You know, I never did give you my tip for your services earlier?” He wiggles the freshly shaped eyebrows.
“Seriously? After all that went down, you’re still horny?” You ask confused. 
Nodding he dips his hands down to your ass, “I have been cockblocked for a month-”
“5 days,” you interrupt.
“Whatever. Doesn’t matter how long, I just know I need to feel you,” There’s a playful glint in his eyes but underneath lies a strange vulnerability as if he just needs to be loved, to be wanted. You can understand that; you felt the same way when you were upset after the party, desperate for a genuine connection. 
Lifting you, he carries you to the bed and lays you down gently, yet, with enough urgency to relay his needs to you. He is so desperate for your touch and your love that he’s already kissing down your neck and hands roaming under the borrowed shirt that you’re wearing. 
But you stop him suddenly, using all your strength to push him away and push him to sit up against the headboard. 
He had to feel the pleasure this time and as much as he would tell you that getting you off was enough for him, you wanted to return the favour.
Sunghoon has a terrible habit of just diving into making you feel good that often your night antics are one-sided with him doing most of the work and you get all of the reward. Tonight, you can’t let it follow the same routine, no matter his protests. 
You start rubbing over his cock that is concealed by his sweatpants and boxers. The imprint of his size is already making your pants stick to your pussy.
You sit on Sunghoon’s legs, anchoring him to his bed as you play with the toggles of his sweatpants.
Licking his lips in anticipation, he watches you pull back the strings and let them go, allowing them to snap and send a shock to his already desperate cock. The way you’re just as eager as him makes his blood pump straight down, helping his member to stand to attention.
There is still an apprehension in you to continue; the last time you attempted to suck him off, it ended in his feet digging into the bed and his ankle swelling back up. This time, however, he was in tip-top shape, or at least he would rather be in pain than not have those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around him
Pulling the bands of his bottoms down slightly, you expose his semi-hard dick, drooling at the sight. It looks as pretty as ever, the tip blushed with a hint of pink already from arousal.
Sunghoon rubs your thighs, the pads of his fingers trickling along your skin, setting your body alight. Even the simplest of touches from him is enough to get the blood in your veins to stir. He sees the effect he has on you and smugly licks his bottom lip, “Are you sure you don’t want me to…” he trails off, his right fingers ghosting your heat, giving you just enough to tease but not to please.
“No,” you shake your head with conviction, determined not to fall into his trap, “I want to do this.”
You honestly do feel bad for the lack of give compared to take, but Sunghoon has an addiction to taste you, to feeling your essence on his lips and tongue. He gets lost down there so long you, making you cum however many times he pleases that sometimes you’re too fucked out to even think, never mind give him anything in return.
Your hand is cold compared to his warm shaft, so when you grasp it softly, it jumps in your hand as Sunghoon gasps, “Jesus fuck,” he whispers as he shuts his eyes, his hand gripping your inner thigh.
You slowly drip your spit onto his cock, gathering enough to coat it. You begin to move your hand up and down slowly, spreading your saliva over him, squeezing periodically where you knew he was most sensitive. 
Rubbing your thumb over his head, you apply special pressure to his slit with each passing which Sunghoon obviously loves, his face being the number one indicator; his jaw is tense, eyebrows scrunched together, and his nose is breathing out harshly. You're driving him crazy with lust.
“Baby, please don’t tell me you aren’t going to use that pretty mouth of yours,” he pleads to you while his hips thrust up further, trying to get as close to your mouth as physically possible from the position he’s in, “I want your mouth so much.”
“You want what?” you tease, bringing your lips down to the tip only to spit on it once more, denying him what he craves.
Sunghoon doesn’t take the teasing well, gritting his teeth from aggravation and pleasure. Although he’s desperately seeking the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his cock, he can’t deny how good your palm feels stroking him like this.
Both of you are as bad as one another, teasing while still giving something. Usually, it’s Sunghoon and his soft kitten licks to your folds when all you want is his fingers inside you. 
It was nice to be in control like this.
Pumping him faster, you watch as he struggles to speak, chest rising and falling with your hand, “Just…fuck…don’t make me ask again,” he pushes out, tone laced in flames. It’s almost cute how he thinks you’ll give up so easily, this is your time to get him back for every time he tortured you.
Bringing your face back down to his head, you lick into his slit and circle his head slowly. As soon as he thinks he’s won, you sit back up straight, smirking as he grinds his jaw in frustration, “Like that?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at him.
“Y/N, c’mon, this is supposed to make me feel better,” he pouts, trying to hide a smile. You falter for a moment, thinking about his words carefully.
You suppose that this was to make him feel better after what just happened with his mum, he needs to feel loved and appreciated, to feel that someone actually cares about him and backs him through everything.
But you know him, and that glint of playfulness in his eyes tells you everything you need to know, “You can’t use the pity card to get what you want, Hoon,” you laugh and continue to work his cock.
Losing his despaired expression, he clicks back into his cheeky self, huffing while he rolls his eyes, “It was worth a shot.” he mutters disappointedly. He really thought that would work.
“I can’t believe you’re trying to guilt trip me into giving you what you want,” you sigh, feigning annoyance. Your hand starts to slow down, “Should I even give you this much?” The confidence in your voice wavers once you look into his eyes.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Sweets,” he challenges you, those menacing fingers from before now pressed exactly where your clit is. You jerk at the sudden touch, loosening your grip on him just slightly. His expression is smug, a wide grin plastered all over his face.
He rubs on your bud causing a chain reaction of events; you fall forward a little, mouth slack open, and with one swift push of your head, he’s gotten exactly what he wants.
Gripping your hair tight with his free hand, he forces you to take him deep into your throat, holding you there as you gag on him, the vibration sending a shiver through his entire body.
Despite his force, he’s left you enough leeway to come off if you want to, but now that you’re down here, mouth stuffed with him, you don’t really feel the need to. Instead, you hollow your cheeks and give in.
His fingers finally slip into you, not even bothering to wait for you to discard your underwear. Curling his two fingers inside you provokes a high-pitched moan to rise from your chest and onto his entire length.
You clasp your hand around his wrist, holding his hand still, grinding on his hand of your own accord. It feels so good you pop off his cock, leaning your head on his shoulder as you get swept away in the goodness.
Your boyfriend tuts mockingly before whispering in your ear, “Baby, I’m starting to think you only want to make yourself feel good,” his voice is embedded with amusement, not a trace of annoyance to be heard. 
Sunghoon’s greatest pride is making you feel good, and as much as your mouth feels fucking unreal, he’ll take hearing your cute noises of need over getting sucked off any day.
You know he doesn’t mind but you want to give him more, something just for him. Regaining your thoughts, you quickly push him to lay flat on the bed, withdrawing his hand from your pussy.
Confused, he raises his eyebrows, “Baby, what are you-holy fuck!”
He stops his question mid-sentence as you take him back in your mouth, this time focusing on sucking his red tip, alternating between licking and slurping.
Grasping at the sheets below him, Sunghoon’s knuckles turn white and his legs tense under you while you give him head, probably with the most vigour you’ve ever shown. He doesn’t know how long he will last with each passing of your tongue over his slit, the accidental dips of the tip of your muscle making him jerk forward.
“Fuck, baby, do that again,” he asks pleadingly, desperate to feel that good again. And you oblige, flicking your tongue into his hole once again, and again, and then once more before you start to taste his precum on your tastebuds. 
As much as he is enjoying this, the idea of splattering his love over your face and tongue, he could think of somewhere else he’d rather have it. Ever since that first time without the condom, you quickly hopped on the pill and never looked back, both of you obsessed with how it felt to fall apart raw like that.
Yes, it was irresponsible, chances of still getting pregnant at a staggering rate but it felt too good and looked even better. Sunghoon still hasn’t got the image of the first time his cum leaked out of you, the sight is the closest thing to heaven as far as he is concerned.
You feel the pulse in his cock thump against your tongue, signalling that he’s close, ready to erupt; however, your hair is yanked to pull you off, the control from each strand to your brain acting as a puppet string as Sunghoon moves you to crawl forward and kiss him, his tongue dancing in your mouth. 
It’s not like him to deny himself release so you know he wants you on him quickly. If his free hand shoving your underwear down wasn’t indicator enough, his little moans certainly were. 
Freeing yourself of your bottoms and pulling his off at the same time, you hover over his angry cock, crying out for your cunt. But that doesn’t mean you can’t cause one more bit of torment. 
Sliding his cock along your wetness, you pretend that you're just gathering enough of your natural lubricate to easily slip him in, but in reality, you keep going; every time his head touches your entrance, you slide it straight back out. 
Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head once you’ve done it one too many times, “Fuck this,” he says lowly. Both of his hands grip your hips tight and once his dick is close enough, he forcefully pushes you onto him, engulfing his whole cock. The sudden action ruptures a loud, porn-like moan from you, the tip of him sitting right at your cervix.
“Isn’t that so much better than being difficult?” he asks cockily, kissing down your neck as you adjust to him, “Remember when you used to be so well-behaved with me?” His words flutter in your tummy, the raspyness of his voice spinning your head around. He must be reading those books you leave at his place, his sex talk is getting a little too good.
He rocks your hips to test the waters for any discomfort, and when he doesn’t see anything but pleasure on your face, he keeps going, “What happened to my good girl? Hmm?” he licks a long strip up your neck before nibbling your earlobe.
This damn praise kink will be the end of you because now all you can think about is him telling you how good you are for him, “I’m sorry, Hoonie. I just wanted to tease you,” you confess, face red from lust and embarrassment at how easy it is for him to get you surrendering.
It’s not a power play, he does it because he knows if you give in and just be your good little self, you enjoy yourself more. You physically shudder at every word of praise and touch of love, why wouldn’t he want you to just surrender to your desires? When you feel good, he feels good; it’s a win-win.
“My beautiful girl, teasing me after saying you wanted to look after me?” he tuts mockingly, smooching along your jawline, “You still want to make me feel good, don’t you?” 
The question makes your pussy walls hug him tight, eyes shut as you quickly nod, “Yes, yes I want to look after you, for the rest of my life,” you utter the words so tenderly that it catches Sunghoon a little off guard. 
When you’re both close like this, having sex, fucking, making love - whatever anyone wants to call it - you are always so vulnerable and honest with him. He wonders if you know you do it or if it subconsciously slips out.
Pickling your hips up, he guides you gently up and down him, the bell of his cock bumping each part of your canal perfectly, “Feel how my heart is beating? That’s because you always look after me, you don’t need to do anything other than be here with me, that’s enough,” he places your hand on his chest and you feel his heart accelerating.
Sunghoon speaks with genuine love, like he’s trying to tie both of you together for an eternity, and you have no reservations about that. You love him so much that even though you can’t see down the tunnel of your future with one another, you know you want to be with him until the end of the line.
Nodding, you smile brightly, “Still, I would like to actually finish giving you head at some point,” you joke, lightening the mood a little.
“I’ll think about it,” he mirrors your expression, nuzzling his nose with yours gently, “For now I think I’d really like to cum inside my girl.” 
You’re convinced you’ve just cum already, the bluntness of his needs only fueling your own. There’s nothing you want more than his cock - which is currently fucking you gently - to fill you up.
It gives you the motivation to move your hips in rhythm with him, pressing your palms on his chest while you pick up speed. Your g-spot is being satisfied each time you fully sink onto him, bringing you close to the edge.
“Fuck, you’re so good, such a good girl,” he echoes loudly. He wants to buck up faster but his ankle has an annoying twinge in it, telling him not to push it too far, so he puts all his strength into his other foot, using that as his anchor to fuck into you deeper.
“Sunghoon…right there,” you whine, your mouth collecting drool as he fucks you dumb. 
He heeds your words and keeps drilling into you, fighting through the discomfort so you can climax. Reaching his thumb up to your mouth, he wipes the saliva formulating at the side of your mouth but he quickly stops when you suck on it, eyes boring into his as you do. 
Your plump lips look delicious while your tongue swirls around, giving him something to think about for the rest of his life. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your mouth open which you do obediently. 
“You’re so close, Sweets, I can feel you,” he states, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip, smearing your spit all over your mouth and down your chin, he grips you a bit tighter to keep you staring at him, “You’re gonna cum, and you’re going to keep looking at me when you do, okay? Do you know why?”
Without hesitation, you agree, staring straight into him, “So I know who makes me cum so hard,” It’s a little embarrassing to admit it, but it turns you on so much. You wonder if you could convince him to go full dom on you at some point, you know he has it in him.
“Good girl, you can cum whenever you want,” the huskiness in his voice pulses into your heat, making you clench around him again. The motion only makes him smirk, “I need to feel that perfect pussy fall apart so bad.” The confidence in his voice wavers as his dick spurts a little. He’s trying to hold it in until you cum but it’s proving more difficult than he anticipated, your core just clamping down on him too deliciously.
“Cum with me,” you say, cradling his face, “I want to cum with you.”
The suggestion doesn’t come unfounded, you know he’s holding back until you climax, “Let me milk your cock.”
Okay, you might have to seriously cringe after this because who do you suddenly think you are? Dirty talk isn’t something that comes as naturally to you as Sunghoon so every time you initiate or say something like that, you have to stop yourself from shrivelling up.
What you fail to see is how Sunghoon’s whole body shuts down, the dirty words falling from those angelic lips put his head in a tizzy and cock on the very brink of shooting into you. The drive he has now is exhilarated, his hips snapping into you, weight on both his ankles but he couldn’t care less, he had to feel you coming undone.
You try to keep up with his pace but he’s going so fast you don’t even have time to comprehend how you could add to the situation. His length is pistoning into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, “Sunghoon! I’m cumming,”
“Cum for me. Milk my cock, Y/N,” he echoes your words but they don’t sound as good to him when it’s not your voice. 
Snaking his hand down to your clit, he rubs it, just helping to push you that last bit over the finish line, and it works like a dream. Your walls contort around him, your body tensing as your orgasm flushes over you. 
With your pussy tightening, Sunghoon spurts his seed into you, filling you up. The way your body is responding to your climax squeezes his cock clear of any cum, his balls deflating as he keeps shooting his sperm into you. 
He doesn’t stop for what feels like minutes, his dick jumping inside of you with each rope, only adding to your pleasure. Sunghoon’s thumb slows down but doesn’t stop giving your clit attention, making sure you get to ride out every remnant of your orgasm. 
Panting, you collapse on him, smooshing your face into his chest and kissing his heart softly, it’s your weak attempt to help him come down. 
Sunghoon wraps his arms around you, the rest of his body going limp as he cherishes the time with you on top of him like this, his cock still buried deep inside you, “You accomplished your goal,” he says into your hair, laying a kiss on your roots, “I feel so much better.”
You look up at him, leaning up slightly, “I never want you to listen to your mum again. She’s wrong about everything, you’re so perfect in every way, shape, and form,” your voice whisps over his face as you try to instil some assurance into him.
There was the little issue of saying this knowing full well she was kind of right about the skate being sabotaged. It gnaws at you, wishing you could tell him what you know, but you don’t want to hurt him, or your brother.
“I promise, I mean it when I say you’re the only one I need,” his fingers trace hearts into your back as you both bathe in the love that fills the room. 
The connection you have to Sunghoon feels surreal like it’s too good to be true. 
______
After the few days you’ve spent nonstop with Sunghoon, you decide you need to go back to your normal life, you can’t stay in your comfort cocoon forever. You’ve been back at classes, hanging out with Rina, and returning to work. However, you still haven’t been home, opting to spend the nights with Sunghoon. 
Minhee has texted and called you a few times, leaving messages asking if you can meet up but you ignore him. His messages punctuate your days like soft knocks on a door you are scared to unlock. 
Each time he contacted you, there was a little angel on your shoulder telling you to hear him out and let him explain what’s been going on. You have been telling yourself that the whole reason you refuse to tell Sunghoon about his skate is because you want to find out the truth; so why aren’t you trying?
Instead, you listened to the devil perched on your other shoulder, telling you to ignore him because it was still wrong even if there was an excuse to be had regarding the sabotage. 
Maybe it would have been easier to go back and forgive him if you hadn’t seen Sunghoon struggle to even stand in the shower.
Your boyfriend also got back to normality, he got his boots fixed in spite of you recommending new boots altogether, he’s determined to keep the old ones, claiming them lucky and ‘crucial to his National win’. 
He’s healing well, you wouldn’t even know he had an injury 9 days ago if you hadn’t been by his side. You knew his recovery was going well when he walked to his uni campus and back with no complaints. Well that and how he made up for the lost time and starting fucking you anywhere and everywhere just like before.
As you make your way to the rink to study, you see Sunghoon’s car in the parking lot which is strange because he said he had classes this afternoon. You shrug it off however, it’s probably just a health checkup he forgot to mention. 
Miss Barbara greets you, a beamer of a smile on her face but not like her usual happy to see you smile, more like an ‘I know something you don’t’ type of smile. You want to question her on it but you’re too curious as to what the rink has in store to wait around. 
The sound of multiple skates resounds off the arena walls, it’s just gone 3:30pm so it’s not an unusual occurrence, the junior skaters usually have afterschool training on a Tuesday anyway. It’s the bellow of Coach Lee’s voice that causes you confusion.
“Take it easy okay, don’t walk before you can run,” Strange. He doesn’t take the Junior class anymore, not since most of the parents complained that he was ‘far too harsh’ on their children. Of course, that’s not how Coach Lee saw it. 
As the rink comes into your sight you see the children standing to observe the skater on the ice as he lands a triple axel.
Sunghoon.
What on earth is he doing here, specifically, what is he doing skating like nothing happened?
You aren’t the only one who has a distaste in your mouth due to Sunghoon’s showing off. Coach is crossing his arms and tapping his foot in annoyance because his star skater has just defied his advice, “Sunghoon! Get off the ice. Now,” His tone indicates that he is in no mood for Sunghoon’s showboating.
Slowly, you make your way to the side while Sunghoon hops off the ice. Knowing your boyfriend, you can see his frustration with his coach, the slightly pouty lips and narrow eyes are a dead giveaway. 
He hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy begrudgingly taking his skates off. To be honest, you’re a little surprised that he doesn’t have some form of PTSD or at least apprehension about getting on the ice again; it would scare the shit out of you never mind doing tricks as if you didn’t almost have a career-ending fall.
“Listen to me, if you want to make Nationals next week you need to calm down with the aerials, alright? We need to build up to it,” Coach reasons with him.
“You saw me, I was perfectly fine,” He mumbles, tying his trainers in a strop. Sometimes he acted just like a kid but you found it endearing, probably because you’re never on the other side of the tantrum.
You now stand next to Coach Lee with a dissatisfied look on your face, “Hoonie, if you don’t listen to Coach Lee, you’ll end up injured again and I am not looking after you again,” Your voice is playful but coach points to you and nods, his eyes still on Sunghoon.
Whipping his head up at your voice, the bratty attitude melts from his body and is replaced with pure happiness. He stands up and brings you in for the tightest hug, his hand placed behind your head as he scratches your hair. 
Now that everyone in your immediate lives knew about you and Sunghoon, there wasn’t really any need to hide it. Both coaches were a little perplexed, wondering how your relationship started considering you both looked like you never spoke a word to one another. Little did they know you’ve spoken and fucked in every room of Belmore, including their office but you’ll omit that information if they ever ask. 
You don’t actually know if your mum knows but rather just assumed she would, either the coaches or Minhee have told her. If she’s anything like Mrs. Park, she will not take it well. 
As you’ve come to realise, your relationship with Sunghoon isn’t that controversial, it’s just two people falling in love while their families go at one another’s throats, like Romeo and Juliet but way, way less dramatic and hopefully no death. Although, if you had gotten a hold of Mrs. Park the day she came to visit Sunghoon, there might be one casualty in it all.
Coach Lee leaves you both, heading into his office. 
“What are you doing?” You ask, still unaware as to why he’s skating.
Leaning back to look at you, he smiles, “I got the all-clear from the doctor. He said I must be some bionic mutation because it’s basically fixed itself,” You’re sceptical, knowing his doctor would usually be a little more cautious than just telling Sunghoon he’s good to go.
Unwrapping your arms from his waist, you raise an eyebrow, “He just…said you can go back to skating? Perform your intense routine at Nationals like it was nothing?” He senses your apprehension and dubiousness and looks away, whistling. He isn’t slick and he knows it, “I guess I’ll go ask him.”
“No! Wait!,” He pulls you back as you go to walk away, a guilty smile plastered on his face, “Okay, maybe he told me to take it easy, skip Nationals and rest up for a few months.”
The look on your face is incredulous, how can Sunghoon and his coach possibly justify letting him back on the ice? 
Sunghoon fails to tell you that the doctor also said if he goes back too fast then he risks tearing a ligament and possibly putting him out of action for the foreseeable and with his age, he doesn’t have a lot of time left in competitive competitions.
That’s why he’s taking the risk. He’s 20 now, which is young in anyone else’s mind but for him, he’s too aware of the fact that in ten years maximum, he’ll either be doing exhibitions, coaching, or not skating at all. He had to take the chance, he had to make it to the Olympics and experience it.
“Sweets, I know what I’m doing, I know my body better than anyone,” He bargains with you, trying to help you see it from his point of view, “If I skate at Nationals, rest up for a bit before the winter Olympics, I’ll be all set. Trust me, baby.”
You do trust him, but you're also acutely aware of his stubborn nature. "Sunghoon, this plan might look good on paper, but it carries serious risks. You could really get hurt," you express, unintentionally letting a hint of begging slip into your voice. The mere thought of him sustaining another injury is unbearable.
Admittedly, there's a selfish reason you don’t want him to skate too soon. You don't want him to risk injury because, deep down, you fear that Minhee would have technically ended Sunghoon's career, invoking the butterfly effect.
“You also said that about us, that we’re good on paper but it couldn’t work. Look at us now,” Using your own words and relationship against you is a low blow, he knows that but it’s the only way you’ll understand. 
With a slow nod, you reluctantly drop the argument. "Just please be careful. I don't want you to cause yourself more damage, okay? If you see my side, at least consider it."
Sunghoon intertwines his fingers with yours, leaning down to kiss you. Instead of responding with words, he lets the kiss convey his gratitude for your concern for him. He knows you’re only looking out for him at the end of the day, just like always.
For a moment, you both get lost in each other, almost forgetting your surroundings. The usual nagging in your brain about the need to be discreet fades away, allowing you to revel in the affection. It’s the joy of telling the world about your relationship.
However, before the moment can linger, your name is angrily shouted from the entrance door, shattering the intimacy. "Y/N, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Your mum storms over to you and Sunghoon, his protective grip on you tightening in response. 
If she didn’t know about you and Sunghoon, she did now. Minhee tries to reach for your mum to calm her down but he isn’t quick enough.
“Mum, I-”
Before you can finish your sentence, she cuts you off, lifting her hand to silence you, “Don’t ‘mum’ me. I have been worried sick about you. You disappeared with…him for almost two weeks, not so much as a phone call to anyone.” She’s furious, if she was a cartoon you would see the steam coming from her scalp.
Sunghoon scoffs, bringing you to his side as a way to stand by you against her, “It’s a bit late to care about her now,” he mutters under his breath like he’s saying it to himself but it doesn’t go unnoticed from your mother.
“Excuse me?” She challenges Sunghoon, her posture hardening to match her stern gaze, “Do not involve yourself in our lives, I know what you’re up to,” her voice is accusatory. 
Yanking you away from your boyfriend, she roughly shoves you to Minhee’s side who catches you. This is the first time you’ve seen him since the morning after the argument and he looks horrible, his entire expression is sullen and his dark undereyes showcase the lack of sleep he’s had. Your heart hurts, wishing you had picked up the phone at least once.
That’s the thing, everything is easier when you shut people out. You haven’t given much thought about how Minhee would be feeling since the incident because you didn’t have to face him.
He gives you a sympathetic look, genuine remorse in his eyes. 
“Don’t speak and listen very carefully,” your mum looks at you, turning her back on Sunghoon to dismiss his presence entirely, “I didn’t want to believe the rumours about you two but it ends now. You will not see him again, that family is cruel and evil and I will not let you continue this relationship any further. Do I make myself clear?” You know she’s angry because she’s speaking clear and concise to get her point across. 
“Not Sunghoon, mum, he’s not a bad person,” 
Pleading with her falls short, her manner never wavering. You look to Sunghoon who shakes his head in disbelief at how brazen your mother was being by talking about him so poorly while he was right there.
She huffs, clearly irritated by your defiance. "Sunghoon is especially toxic."
"Mu-"
"He's using you to get to your brother."
The entire arena seems captivated by this unexpected drama, like it’s an episode of  Maury and the DNA results are about to be revealed. Minhee and Sunghoon exchange perplexed glances, but all you can muster is laughter.
The idea that Sunghoon has ulterior motives for dating you seems utterly ludicrous, "Mum, Sunghoon and I are together, and we're happy. Why can't you just leave us be?"
Ignoring your plea, she digs into her handbag, determined to prove her point. As she scrolls through her phone, you seize the opportunity to exchange a glance with Minhee, who can only offer a shrug, equally taken aback by the unfolding spectacle.
Finally finding what she's looking for, she hands you the phone, revealing screenshots of text messages between two individuals. "I did some digging once I found out about your little relationship. He's been texting his friends and making a mockery of you."
As you peer at the phone, Sunghoon's name is at the top of the screen, and the messages depict Sunghoon boasting about sleeping with you and how easy you are to get into bed, all it took was playing on your ‘mommy issues’.
The stress in your body builds, lying heavily on your shoulders. Despite the initial shock, the rational part of your mind takes over. Nowadays, anyone can make a fake text. The absurdity of the situation dawns on you, and you suspect that your mother is creating drama for her own sick pleasure.
"Mum, anyone can fake text messages. This doesn't prove anything," you assert, hoping to inject some reason into the escalating confrontation. 
Sunghoon still hasn’t seen the messages so he doesn’t know the severity of the allegations being made about him but he knows it can’t be good. Although you’re ninety percent convinced that it’s fabricated, he can see the ten percent of you arguing that they’re real.
With a dismissive wave, your mum takes back the mobile, “Thought you might say that. Texts can be faked, but voices? They don’t lie.” 
You suddenly have a sick feeling that’s rising from your stomach to your throat. What else could she possibly have? It won’t be substantial, it can’t be.
Out of your eyeshot, Minhee and Sunghoon are exchanging a look of curiosity, both wondering what Sunghoon could possibly have said about you that would elude to your relationship being made from lies.
Opening a file on her phone, your mum plays an audio clip, the sound of Sunghoon’s voice fills the tense air.
"All I gotta do is keep her hooked until Nationals. Once Minhee catches wind of me messing around with his little sister, he'll be too wrapped up in that drama to think about anything else. Can't have him messing with the Olympic team, you know?...
…No, she doesn’t have a clue. I practically have her doing anything I say. Seriously, sex whenever I want! I missed my opportunity to be an actor because how i’ve been pretending to be in love with her makes me worthy of an Oscar….
I just used lines from those movies that girls watch, read a few Twitter threads, I did my research man c’mon.”
In the wake of the phone call clip, a heavy burdening silence hangs around the rink, suffocating you. Your mum adorns a victorious smile, proud of her revelation. 
She’s the only one who was happy in this situation.
Minhee balls his fists, face going red and stature in fight mode, ready to knock everyone out of the way so he can lay his hands on Sunghoon. He isn’t even upset that he was planning all of this to sabotage him but rather that he hurt the one person most precious to him. You.
You find yourself at a crossroads, torn between the person you’ve come to love and the evidence presented to you. Sunghoon wouldn’t do this to you but the proof is right there, clear as day. The weight on your shoulders is unbearable as you contemplate the idea that maybe the Sunghoon you thought you knew, the one you love, actually isn’t who he says he is.
Sunghoon’s mouth hangs open and his eyebrows merge together as he processes what he just heard, “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say that, I have never…I wouldn’t…” He can’t even finish the words, still perplexed by the audio.
“Oh? But isn’t that your voice?” your mum says. It’s sick how much she seems to be enjoying this, almost like this will be the most gratifying ‘I told you so’ in history. 
“Well…yeah but I did NOT say that,” he walks towards you, hands on his chest, “Baby, please believe me. I love you, I wouldn’t use you,” Sunghoon’s voice wavers with anger and sadness, conflicting feelings fighting one another as his mind bats them around.
The weight of humiliation and deceit bears down on you, threatening to shatter your composure. A storm of emotions swirls within, but you stubbornly refuse to let it consume you, denying anyone the satisfaction of witnessing your breakdown.
With determination, you storm out, deaf to the desperate pleas from Minhee and Sunghoon. Your singular focus is on escaping the prying eyes, sparing yourself from the judgment and pity.
How could Sunghoon betray you like this? You gave each part of yourself to him, only for him to throw it back in your face.
But it was so real, the connection you have with him, even from the start, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before so how could it all be a lie? The way he made you feel was otherworldly, it’s hard to believe for a second he would have manipulated you like that. 
Was every whispered promise and affectionate moment just a ploy to damage your brother's chances?
As you push open the double doors, your mind is filled with conflicting thoughts that drown out the background noises of the outside world. The confusion envelopes you like a thick cloud and the cold air hits you like a slap in the face, a dramatic contrast to the hot chaos left behind in the rink. 
Stumbling slightly, you make your way through the car park, the weight of betrayal and inner struggle increasing with each step.
Tears threaten to spill, but you clench your hands, determined to maintain composure. The weight of embarrassment, uncertainty, and sadness pushes over your chest, making it difficult to breathe.
“Y/N! Wait!” Sunghoon’s cry finally infiltrates its way through your ears, “Sweets, please talk to me,” his voice gets louder as he catches up, attempting to grab your wrist but you harshly pull it from his grasp.
You’ve had too many arguments in this car park for your liking, whoever runs the CCTV must sit with some popcorn every time you trudge out of Belmore.
“Was this your plan, huh? To use me like this?” This was your chance to find out why he did it, why he tricked you so easily, “Was all of it a lie? When you told me you loved me, was it all fake?” you batter question after question out to him, word vomiting your inner thoughts in hopes of some clarity to the situation.
Standing in front of you, Sunghoon’s expression reads more anger than hurt, “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. Don’t fucking diminish my feelings like that,” he argues back. It instilled a fury within him that you could even elude to his love being a lie.
“Oh? So what, getting under my brother’s skin was the plan but then you started to fall in love with me as time went on like one of those bullshit Rom Coms. Is that really the angle you’re pulling here?” You can hear your voice getting louder and you have no desire to lower it. 
Sunghoon is a mirror of you, anger rising but it’s not aimed at you, it’s the situation he’s furious with, “Y/N I swear on my life I didn’t say any of those words back there. I…I don’t know what’s going on,” his shoulders raise as he fights internally with himself. 
“That was your voice, Sunghoon. YOU. I hope you get your fucking Oscar, I’m sorry it was so hard to pretend to be in love with me, isn’t that what you said?” It’s not like you to scream at someone, however, the love you have for him is like a clutch in your heart, a burden you once thought was a privilege. 
Tightening his jaw, he has a tough act on in front of you but his wavering voice gives him away, “I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much you can’t actually think for a second any of this was fake to me.” Sunghoon groans and slaps his cheeks lightly, a habit he has when he’s frustrated, “I don’t know how to prove to you I am not fucking lying. Y/N, you’re my whole world and you know it. Why are you believing your mum when she couldn’t give two shits about you,” he barely pushes out the last sentence from pure agitation. 
Weeks and weeks have gone by and he has listened to you tell him stories about your mother and how she’s a horrible person. Now you’re standing in front of him suddenly believing her over the one person that has shown you all the love you’ve been missing. It’s enraging him to another level he didn’t even know he was capable of.
“Why shouldn’t I believe her? She literally has stone-cold proof of you admitting that you used me,” you argue.
He takes two long steps to stand in front of you, invading your bubble. His big hands hold your cheeks as he forces you to look into his eyes, “I didn’t say it. I didn’t send any texts. I haven’t got any friends except Jay and Jake and they would be on my ass if I pulled something like this. I love you so fucking much. Are you really going to believe a shitty audio clip instead of seeing what’s right in front of you?”
Either he’s telling the truth or he’s really committing to the role. The sincerity in his eyes clashes with the damning evidence, leaving you torn between love and reason. 
Pushing him back, you shake your head. You can’t rationalise anything, the red you’re seeing clouding over your judgement. His love that poured through the words was evident but even on the call he said he faked being in love with you, maybe he was just a natural talent in the art of deception.
“You’re just like my brother, y’know, literal carbon copies of each other. You’ll do anything to win, to top one another in this stupid rivalry. First, it was him with your skate and now this, using me like I’m some pawn in your game.”
A weird silence fills the air as Sunghoon takes in your rambling, “What about my skate?” 
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
As if the icy air just took over your body, your blood runs cold at your accidental admission. This isn’t how you wanted to tell him, truthfully, you didn’t want to tell him at all but if you did, you wanted it to be a bit gentler than this and well after you figured out what Minhee was thinking.
“Did Minhee fuck up my skate that day?” Sunghoon can’t believe it, his face going a paler shade as he takes in the gravity of your words, “My mum was right? You both had something to do with it?”
He is seething, his body shaking as he comes to terms with your words. Sunghoon has never felt more fury coursing through his blood as he does right now, never in his life did he ever think you could make him this angry.
“Of course, I didn’t, Sunghoon. Believe it or not, I was actually in this relationship for real, not pretending,” you spit back at his accusation.
“You knew he did this to my ankle, you listened to me argue with my mum and defend both of you to the point she won’t speak to me anymore and it was true?” The hurt in his voice drains some of the anger from you, making room for guilt to sit shallowly at the surface. 
There wasn’t anything you could say right now that would make you look better in this scenario. You fucked up, you knew when you found out about the skate, you knew it while you cradled Sunghoon in your arms as he broke down, and you know it now.
What you did was fucked up. Lying to him was bang out of order.
However, since the guilt is only taking about a 1/8th of your body, the anger suffocates it, choking it down, “You’re turning it on me but I can’t control Minhee’s actions.”
“You kept it a secret, that’s just as bad,” he shouts, veins popping from his neck.
It hurts, the way he says it. He sounds so betrayed.
But he betrayed you, he’s been lying this whole relationship and now he’s getting angry at you for keeping one fact to yourself. You know it’s wrong to try and compare the two, to find a way and dilute the severity of your lie but you’re livid at him right now. Once you’ve calmed down you might be able to see clearly, that won’t be today though.
“Okay, fine. I should have told you but you’ve also been lying to me, and for a lot longer,” you retort back, staring into his eyes.
Stunned by your confession, his mind temporarily short circuits. You lied to him, after everything you saw him go through with his ankle, you neglected to mention that it was Minhee. He practically disowned his mother in honour of not just you but your brother…for it all to be true. And to top it all off, you still don’t believe him as he tells you that he loves you, that somehow that audio is fake.
Before Sunghoon can gather any words to say back, Coach Lee has a firm grip on his arm, the man’s eyes flicking between you both. It’s clear that even without hearing the conversation, your relationship was essentially over and Coach Lee didn’t want to meddle.
“Y/N, go home. Sunghoon, come with me.” His parental voice is switched on as if he’s telling his kids to stop playing with their food or drawing on the walls. 
You and Sunghoon stay stagnant as you watch each of your worlds crumble beneath you. All that you knew and loved got swept away on a random Tuesday afternoon.
And you just let it happen.
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theflyindutchwoman · 8 months
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I honestly hate the Lucy UC storyline now. 1) she’s been in THREE Documentaries, one specifically about her going UC so it makes no sense (also not to mention Isabel outting her as a cop to that guy’s daughter, so maybe that’s were the storyline will go, he’ll try to get revenge on her for being a cop) and 2) she was upset about them not seeing each other much if she moved to a different station yet they wanted us to believe that she would have no problem going on a UC for 6 mths to a year and not seeing Tim (or Tamara)?!?! Like come on 🙄
For what's it worth, you're definitely not the only one feeling this way. I personally don't hate it, but I get it. This has been a bone of contention since s3, even more so lately. My biggest gripe at the moment is that, this storyline has been stagnant for so long, it's time to either commit, or give Lucy other opportunities. I wasn't sure if you were merely venting your frustrations or if you wanted me to answer : in case it's the latter, I'm gonna address your points but by no means am I trying to invalidate your feelings here. I'm just sharing my perspective on the matter.
Let's start with the documentaries. Honestly, at this point, I think we should simply take them for what they are : an opportunity for the writers to develop ridiculous plots and have fun, even though they don't make much sense… The last one was so over the top that I loved it - but I can understand that it's a bit hard to suspend your disbelief here… especially regarding the UC arc. I didn't mind Lucy being in them at first - or Nyla for that matter. Not to stereotype here, but I'm not sure the criminals she goes after watch these type of documentaries. And even if they were, they would still have to remember her specifically and there wasn't any particular reason to do so back then. I mean, so far, only one person in-universe has ever referenced these documentaries… and that lady was a director herself (5.06). That last one, on the other hand… Let's just say that outing Lucy as an undercover cop was definitely a choice… I almost feel bad for the criminals who went out of their way to be creative so they could get their hands on those UC lists, when really, all they needed to do was sit and watch true crime episodes. No respect for the craft! But more seriously : when the promo aired, I thought for sure that this issue was going to be addressed. I even wondered if I had missed a conversation or something after watching the episode. I guess, we're just supposed to pretend that it doesn't matter since not one single person raised the issue of Lucy being in the spotlight when she should be in the shadows. Then again, the LAPD doesn't see a problem with advertising a whole conference about covert operations… We clearly have a very different definition of secrecy. That said, maybe this will come back later and someone will recognise her. That's always a possibility - though it would seriously make the whole department look incompetent for not considering that ahead of time…
Another option would be to reopen the Teska plotline, as you suggested. The writers did leave the door wide open with all the loose threads, starting with how abruptly Lucy ended the op. Or how Isabel outed them as cop to the daughter, that's true. I have to say, I'm not completely convinced he would want to get revenge on Lucy. Sure, she lied to him about who she was. At the same time, she saved his kid's life, pushed him to make amends and get another chance with her and let him go free. She technically could have had him arrested : between the possession of a firearm and the conspiracy to commit murder, she had more than enough. I'm not saying the guy would become bestie with Lucy but out of all the people she's met while undercover, he's not the one with the biggest motive. Actually, I feel like Isabel would be a bigger target : after all, she's the one who infiltrated his gang and sent him to jail in the first place. Not to mention that his daughter knows how to contact her. But yes, he could always come back to wreak havoc. And as I mentioned earlier, he's not the only one. There's the female gang that might hold a grudge against Lucy. There are a couple of cartels that were crippled thanks to her. Any of her missions could come back to haunt her. But, and this is only my opinion, after spending three seasons filled with various vendettas from La Fiera, Elijah, Rosalind and whatnot, another plot like this would get old real fast. I don't think we need any more of these. Especially since Elijah is not fully over yet and we still have the ramifications from the finale to deal with. I'd rather Lucy just gives up on UC because she realises this is not for her. At least, it would be something different, you know what I mean?
And that leads me to your last point… Here's the thing : as upset as Lucy was at the idea of spending less time with Tim, she was still ready to move to another station, she still helped him get a new position that is notorious for their killer hours and she was still studying for the detective's exam. This didn't deter her at all. Obviously, this is different than being away for months on end, but she has been consistent in that regard. I understand the confusion and how illogical it sounds… But just because she was distressed about seeing Tim less, doesn't automatically mean she won't be able to handle being away. And just because she could handle it, doesn't mean she will want to do it. Speaking from personal experience here, it's a bit more nuanced - and complicated - than that I'm afraid. I only wish we would hear her perspective on all of this.
I also don't think that the narrative, or Lucy herself, was implying she would have no problem whatsoever with not seeing Tim (or Tamara) for a long period of time. I'm assuming you're referring to that last scene in 5.20, when she was worried about Tim not handling long term UC. As I see it, it was more about her trying to finally have an honest conversation with him about undercover, so they could hash everything out. This was introduced in 5.16, with Noah opening the can of worms, but they didn't get to the bottom of it since they had another conflict to take care of. Undercover is a bit of a sore point for Tim - for good reasons - and she knows it. She was there for the end of his marriage, she remembers his knee-jerk reaction when he found out she wanted to pursue undercover… He may fully be supportive now but she wants to gauge how he is truly faring with all of this. And after the events of the day (Isabel's return, their mini UC op…), it gave her the perfect opportunity to try to address this. She can guess he has been soldiering on for her and she doesn't want that. A place of honesty, remember. That's why she starts their conversation with : "Can I share something vulnerable with you?". She's putting herself in a vulnerable position by confessing how much she loves doing this job. She's trying to bring up the underlying issue in a way that wouldn't make him defensive. But a part of her has to also be afraid of his reaction. This isn't an easy situation. When she answers him "No. Um… I'm worried that you won't", it's because in that moment, her concerns are about him. Let's be honest, out of the two, he's the one more likely to have issues with this due to his past. She doesn't have the same baggage as him. And she's right to ask the question : how many of us have asked it? Apart from when she was his rookie or when he pushed her to go to the Academy, they've never talked about it. Only it's an important conversation to have if they want to spend their lives together. And they finally had it after her last mission. Another reason is that, in her case, she has something to counterbalance the hardship of not seeing Tim : doing something she loves. He, on the other hand, doesn't really have anything to outweigh this downside when she's away. However, he knew all of this from the start and still decided to start a relationship with her : simply being with her eclipses this drawback. This is what matters to him. But I can see why she would want to check with him if long-term undercover is something he can handle beforehand. It doesn't mean she doesn't have her own fair share of doubts. Now whether she can truly handle it… For the moment she thinks she can - and so far, she has. Maybe she's underestimating how hard it would be… and to be fair, it's not like she really has a frame of reference here. Listening to other people's experiences can only go so far…
If it helps though, I doubt Lucy will do too many long-terms undercover mission - if any - so all of this might end up being moot anyway. But I still believe the whole point of that conversation was to try to address the elephant in the room… They started opening up to each other, after several attempts, so maybe next season they will take a step further in that direction and explore Lucy's side of this, share some light on whether she has any doubts or worries. And hopefully, this storyline won't be in limbo for much longer. But again, this is just my perspective :)
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tearskillstardust · 3 months
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Hi tearskillstardust, thank you so much for taking your time out of your day to do this event. Wishing you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Here are my details ^^
Personality: INFP 5w4
Sidereal: Sagittarius Sun, Pisces Moon, Aries Rising
Hobbies: Traveling, spirituality/occult stuff, watching documentaries, admiring art, playing chess, daydreaming, gaming, reading, hiking and self improvement.
Favourite characters: Venti, Ayato, Neuvillette, Thoma, Albedo, Zhongli and Xiao. (I have more but this list would way too long)
Personality: Honesty it depends on the environment and who I am with. I feel there are multiple layers to my personality which can make me confusing or unpredictable as it can contradict each other. Maybe that’s my own perception of myself speaking as I personally feel misunderstood too often for my liking by others. I’m instinctively wary of ppl so I come off as mysterious, secretive, analytical, direct, guarded, serious and intense. If I trust you I’m more expressive, passionate and open. I love having deep conversations about anything but especially about philosophy and psychology. Often I need a lot of alone time to recharge and gather my thoughts. But I’m also a hardworking, patient, flexible and considerate person. I like hearing ppl’s unique perspectives, adventures and crazy stories even if they a bit extreme or considered “socially unacceptable” I adore animals and can’t stand cruelty towards them.
Favourite aesthetic: Dark Academia
I would like to participate in events 1 and 4. Thank you again :)
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1] STELLAR UNION ! ░ the characters you have best compatibility with are ...
HEIZOU !
— you would immediately attract him! perhaps it's your charm that lies within your ability to seduce through humour. they say it's not a particularly attractive trait, but you prove it is. he would find you a confusing but highly dynamic a personality. like there's something deeply hidden about the way you are, the way you approach the world yet on someone else it would've seemed as a veil, but on you the mystery seems like a jewel.
— he would think that you're very pleasant to be around but also somewhat unsettling because you can't be figured out so easily. he depends on his quality of controlling people's minds, but he can't do it with yours—it's like your five steps ahead. he would love how you're so quick and clever and would be instantly attracted to you. he would approach you because he would know that you are too self assured to go after others. not arrogantly, it's just the vibe you give off, of assurance, confidence and beauty. there's depth in you and it's visible, which makes him want to speak to you so much, he would want you to share things, be honest and open with him and would find it irresistible when you never reveal anything about yourself.
— regardless, the drama doesn't last long. both of you find each other emotionally fulfilling, and would want to be honest with the other because it feels like both of you have practically the same experiences. this would feel like mutual respect and attraction in the beginning but then a soulmate like feeling the closer you get. you both adore each other's quirks, there would be understanding and neither of you get under the others skin. he would be fulfilling for you in the sense that he, too, likes both knowledge and adventure. he'll help you find out your spontaneous side which demands more attention, and urges you to be confident and face the world with a beaming smile!
NEUVILLETTE !
— again, he is attracted to the impermeable wall you have around yourself. almost like no one can infiltrate your aura of effect in anyhow. like you're the purest, it's this thought that gets him the most. your inclination towards presenting yourself to the world in the brightest light but still keeping yourself hidden would both, confuse him and attract him. he would wish to speak to you but, really it would be you who would initiate conversation. not out of curiosity or affection, perhaps out of requirement. it's when he would speak to you once when he would realize how much he loves speaking to you altogether making him initiate conversation with you over and over again, even to talk about insignificant matters.
— he would find you attractive and an instant connection would be forged between you two. you would trust him because he's a pretty private person and would feel comfortable sharing your emotions with him, something you don't usually do. it would be an easy feeling, something that feels like you've both known each other for years. he would want to provide for you and be the caretaker for you because sometimes you're unhealthy towards your own self and he would feel extremely upset seeing you do that to yourself. he would want you to be confident in yourself and would support you to show more of your dynamism.
— you too, would be entranced by him because he would seem to be the person you simply want to be with! he would make you feel very happy and self-assured. art could be important for you both, perhaps something you both love to engage in together when free! regardless, he would love exchanging ideas with you because he thinks you're a genius. it would be very cute to see you both together!
FURINA !
— your talkative and fun-loving side would surface automatically with her! it's as though you're both meant to be with each other. you would be able to see her for the knowledge she is brimming with but doesn't ever show, it's like you would uncover the diamond mine of a brain she has. you would immediately catch her clever actions and she would quickly realize you for how observant you are, making her feel somewhat shy and exposed with you initially.
— regardless, if you both allow it, this bond has the potential to be very sweet and healing because you both are instinctively on the same wavelength! you bring out the more vulnerable side of her, which she is very reluctant to show to others but would be willing to be honest to you about, you might dislike how she demands everyone else to get out of their comfort zones to attain her but won't move out of hers—but remember, we have faults and it's helping each other fix these faults that matter at the end of the day <3
4] FALLEN STARS ! ░ your genshin life looks like ...
liyue qixing, executive dept.
— to be so just of heart that the gods are forced to acknowledge it is your strikingly distinguishable trait. your first blessing in this lifetime—a hydro vision, symbolic of your pure intent and purer sense of ideology; akin to gold. complimenting it is your social charm, which makes you belong best to the nation of commerce and trade— liyue.
— with your action-oriented personality, and blunt words, the best work that would suit you is an executive one in the liyue qixing. this is majorly because you're excellent at implementation and execution comes naturally to you. you're of active nature, even if it isn't always visible. you may come off as being too blunt for many others' likings, but considering the nature of your job here, it only adds to your suitability towards such a field. excellence at execution of tasks comes naturally to you, especially if it involves some action or fun.
— people might find you intimidating or barbaric, even when you're the complete opposite. you just need to understand that not everyone will understand your depth and it isn't always about being understood, anyway. people find you motivating because you're a powerhouse, a source of energy that ignites passion in others. in this job, particularly, people would find as someone who they're not supposed to mess with. if you manage to keep your chin up, then the world will bow to you.
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archives-of-camelot · 3 months
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Lying
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Characters: Eli, Evelin (@nimue-hidden-lake)
Series: Evelin Anniversary
These prompts have been on the shorter side for the last few days. But I hope the quality is decent at least. I also find myself thinking very hard for Evelin's dialogue and reactions, as this is untapped territory for me. Not just because this is something I've never written before, but also having to conjure an unknown side of her that still makes sense.
To her creator, I just hope she's still accurate on my end.
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Click clack click click
The sounds of work once again filled the room as Eli was hunched over his work. More clients, more editing. The cycle never stopped. Clicking, sliding, reviewing, and listening. For multiple hours. The longest and most demanding projects were the reviews and documentaries. Audio had to be synced, but before anything it had to be cut down to exclude any mistakes. And the sheer length ensured it would take even longer to process and render.
Not to mention he had to submit previews to check that everything was as the client wanted. And sometimes he had to restart due to dissatisfaction. He enjoyed making and editing videos, but it was very time consuming.
His work was interrupted when the sound he was ignoring finally became too loud to disregard. His stomach.
"Guh, fine...if it'll keep you quiet" he mumbled to himself as he poked his empty belly.
He finished up an edit and made his way downstairs.
Upon reaching the landing, he was about to head into the kitchen when-
"Good afternoon"
He turned around and was met with Evelin, just getting done from feeding Pinro.
"Afternoon...?" he looked confused.
"Yes" she pointed to the clock. 1PM.
"O-Oh, right. Uh...I lost track of time" he nervously shrugged as his stomach rumbled again.
"Did you even eat yet today?"
"U-Uh, of course! Was...just about to get lunch!"
Evelin stared at him skeptically. He was a terrible liar...yet he tried anyway.
"Really?" she stepped closer.
"Y-Yeah!" he took a step back.
She wasn't convinced. Why did he even try? Who could say. Not even he knew exactly. The outcome was always the same, yet he persisted.
"Do you want to try again?" she said as she took a few steps closer.
He felt his back press against the wall as there wasn't much room to go anywhere else. And even then, she'd just catch or chase him. It was just one meal, it wasn't that big of a deal, right?
"I-I didn't miss breakfast, honest!" he was sweating.
"You don't sound very convincing" as she pressed herself against him. Nowhere to go. "This doesn't need to be difficult"
"A-Alright alright, I...might have forgot breakfast. It was just one meal though!" he finally gave in.
"There..." she backed up.
He sighed with relief. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.
"But now you need to be punished" she added stoically.
He thought too soon.
"P-Punished?"
"Yes" she nodded. "You lied, and skipped a meal. That makes me very angry" she may say, but kept her stoic expression and voice. Was she really? Whose to say. Maybe it was a blend of making sure he took care of himself, and also taking the chance to mess with him. It was one of her favorite things to do after all. His reactions were priceless to her.
"I just got distracted from my work! I'll...try and remember for next time" he tried to reason, as usual. There was no reasoning with her. She made up her mind already.
"I'm sure. But that can wait for after"
"A-After? B-But...I still got work to do!"
"But you'd love it"
He looked to the side as she called him out. Part of the reason he'd sometimes get into 'trouble'. But she had no complaints.
Before anything else could be said, she lead him into the kitchen to make sure he was fed, before taking 'disciplinary' action.
Eli forgot all about his editing for that day.
Masterlist
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berlinini · 1 year
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"1D was at the top of their game and Louis was finally finding his place in the band; I can tell you if he knew they were splitting up he would have been much more angry"
No, 1D was definitely not at the top of their game. Their time was running out like all boybands. Their album and tour sales were steadily declining year by year. MITAM had the lowest sales of all their albums, and they didn't sell out their last US tour. Louis had found his place but the band was in decline.
Louis WAS really angry! He has said how angry he was. It's right there in his documentary. He was confused and upset, he didn't know what he was going to do and he didn't know if they'd get back together again. That doesn’t mean he or anyone was "lied to" about the hiatus. They were out of contract! None of them believed they were on an 18 month hiatus, come on!
Of course Louis and all of them would lie to their fans if they thought it would make it easier and safer for everyone. This was a very young and extremely passionate boyband fandom. Nobody wanted them freaking out and doing something stupid and desperate like when other boybands ended (and Sony didn't want them to stop buying 1D records).
It was obviously hardest for Louis to let go. But it's insulting to him and Liam and Niall to pretend they somehow were clueless enough to think they'd be back as 1D within 18 months. That was a story geared to their youngest fans to make their last few months easier for everyone. Everyone knew 1D was over. Louis just had the hardest time coming to terms with it. He's told his story. No need to make another one up.
From Rolling Stone's review of AOTV:
One Direction delivered their final performance on stage at The X Factor, right back where they started. It was December 2015, about a month after they released their fifth album in as many years. But unlike their prior albums, there was no world tour on the horizon to keep the cycle going. Instead, they would be embarking on a much-needed hiatus. “Let’s give it 18 months,” Tomlinson said on Alan Carr’s Chatty Man a few days before that performance. It’s been more than seven years now, but he seems to have genuinely believed it was only a break at the time.
“Even right up until we went on the break, there was still really no closure on that idea” Tomlinson says in the documentary. “You didn’t really, or at least I didn’t, understand what it was going to be. I think the feeling I remember the most is a little bit of anger, because I didn’t want to go on a break. It didn’t just upset me, it shocked me. I wasn’t prepared for it. I thought for me, it was the band or nothing.”
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persefoneshalott · 2 years
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ramble about kevin mcclain american vandal s2
the thing is Kevin LIES constantly. Dylan in s1 knows he's innocent but isn't believed by a lot of people, being doubted by peter at some point and with him the audience. But kevin KNOWS that he did it and yet encourages Peter & Sam to suspect in other people and keeps lying about being innocent until the truth leaks out. And we never get his pov of it, really, we only get his narration after he's already lied A TON. I think probably him lying started in part because he didn't want to disappoint Chloe after she was trying to help him and reached out after them having distanced in the past, but he's also a bit resistant to trusting her and reconnecting with her again at the beginning, I think because he felt angry and betrayed by her and with that comes the second part of why he lied, which to me is that he ultimately didn't regret what he did THAT much, not enough to be punished for it. And then when it seems like other people might take the blame for it, he goes with it.
And the people who are being suspected are the people that Grayson WANTS to take the blame, with DeMarcus acting as a substitute for the knight dude for him. And not only does Kevin go with that but he misjudges DeMarcus in the same way that Grayson does, he makes comment about him being a dumb jock and both him & chloe see him as this 'untouchable' person who can get away with anything because of his popularity. which is the exact reason why grayson wants him framed (an assumption, but that seemed like his original plan).
And THEN when drew gets framed in his place, someone who we don't think he has any problem with, he still lets that happen (and Grayson never gives kevin up or leaks their messages which *eyes emoji* is just INTERESTING why would he be so loyal to kevin but that's another story). This is the LAST EPISODE and kevin is still going with the 'I am innocent : ( I've been framed' act.
so when the time comes for Kevin to tell the 'truth' about Brooke I am VERY skeptical lmao because his story sounds very fake and he gives such a non reaction to being told grayson was behind it all. Also, this is another thing that was probably not intended by the writers, but the fact that they wrote him as so obviously gay is another thing that makes the 'I did it to impress Brooke' seem fake to me. I think, considering the condoms is one of the only stuff we have proof of (he did buy SOMETHING), he might've thought he liked her, but I don't buy that he didn't know brooke wasn't brooke after her last text, and that he didn't think back on all those familiar conversations with this person and connected some dots. (also we don't know that they didn't meet in person after *puts conspiracy glasses on*!) He even SAYS 'this girl that I had fallen in love with had never existed', and 'Brooke' tells him that she's a fake ('you're full of shit just like me') SO HOW DOES 'I was trying to impress her' MAKE SENSE. it doesn't.
but anyway I just think it's so interesting and I find what we know of his dynamic with grayson so fascinating, because they're childhood friends before, and he's the only one who grayson didn't get pics from, the only one who wasn't blackmailed because they both agreed on the plan. And grayson could've given him up at any moment, specially with the documentary happening, and he does not, even when he's arrested, even when he leaks everyone elses' part on the plot, he leaves Kevin alone, frames drew so the four acts match four people, and wipes his phone and laptop!! (of course to try and lessen his sentence, but if that had worked, that'd have left no evidence of kevin's involvement as well)
so all in all Kevin is a liar who lies and I love him and I love that dark side of his character that doesn't really get explored in the show and I like to think he's being an unreliable narrator until the end (: and idc if the writers intended him to seem genuine and want me to take what he says in finale at face value, I'm going watsonian and trying to make it make sense for the character, and it doesn't to me if he IS being fully honest.
I'm not saying he's a supervillain or anything to be clear lol, he's just flawed and I do think he didn't enjoy seeing the brown out happened. But again, there's feeling bad and there's feeling bad enough to accept punishment for it. and I find it very funny that he spends the whole season being like uwu I'm innocent I've been framed knowing full well he has not. He even admits 'it was thrilling' to fill the lemonade it but peter buys the 'he fell in love and was trying to impress a girl' story which. even if true. that's still his revenge fantasy. that they both joked about. this isn't him going after people who he has no trouble with bc he's being influenced. but no one ever doubts it! (and again, I'm not saying he wasn't manipulated bc he was for sure, but more in a veronica from heathers the movie way where it's all very ambiguous )
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ppersonna · 3 years
Text
swipe right - jjk | m
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“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers
♡ summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?
♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)
♡ word count- 9k
♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.
♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!
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Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.
He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.
Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.
Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.
“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  
You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”
“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”
You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.
“I’m at our park.”
Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.
“Give me five minutes, okay?”
You nod, even though he can’t see you. 
“Okay.”
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Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.
He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.
You still look so beautiful.
And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.
He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.
“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.
He sniffs haughtily. 
“The trash added character.”
Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.
“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.
He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.
“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”
You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.
“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”
Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.
“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.
“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.
“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.
Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.
He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.
“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”
“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  
“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”
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As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.
You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 
“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 
He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 
“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 
Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 
“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 
You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 
“You call Jimin a prince?” 
Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 
“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 
You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?
“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 
“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 
You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 
“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 
“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 
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Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 
It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 
The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 
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The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 
Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 
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“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”
Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 
The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 
He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 
His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 
He just matched with YOU. 
His best friend. 
His secret, lifelong crush. 
He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 
YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!
He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 
JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?
You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 
Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 
JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀
Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 
A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 
YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies
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“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 
Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 
“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”
You huff. 
“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”
Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 
“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.
There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 
“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”
You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 
“It’s nothing!” 
“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 
“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”
“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 
You roll your eyes. 
“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”
“I’ll be expecting your call later.”
“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”
“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”
You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.
“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.
You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.
So, why do you care so much about what you wear?
You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.
Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?
The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.
You shake all thoughts off. 
No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.
You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.
Perfect.
With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.
JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!
ME: See you soon!
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Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.
Is he too casual?
He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.
Maybe it’s too much.
Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.
Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.
He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.
He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.
It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.
You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.
“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.
He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.
You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 
“Jungkook?”
It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.
“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.
“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.
“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.
“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.
“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 
In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.
“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”
His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 
“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”
The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”
A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.
“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 
You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.
“Well, are we going?”
Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.
But he resists.
“Let’s go!”
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You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 
But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 
Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 
But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 
Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.
And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 
It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 
“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 
Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 
You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 
“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”
Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 
Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 
As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.
“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.
Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.
“What? We were going to get ice cream?”
You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.
You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.
“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.
His body stiffens.
“Okay, let me walk you home.”
You shake your head, already moving away from the man.
“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.
Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.
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You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.
“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.
“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”
“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.
“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.
“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 
Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.
“We’re on our way over.”
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Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.
Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.
Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.
“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”
Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.
“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”
Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.
“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”
Jimin nods knowingly.
“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”
Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 
“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  
You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 
“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”
Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”
Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”
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Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.
You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.
Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 
speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.
“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.
Ouch.
You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.
“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”
Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 
“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”
“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”
“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”
Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.
“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 
“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”
You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.
“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”
“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.
He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”
“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”
He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.
“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”
“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”
“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”
You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.
He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.
He can’t watch you run away from him again.
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“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”
Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.
“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  
He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.
The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.
“Hi Kook.”
The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.
It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 
Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.
Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.
“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”
Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.
The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.
“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”
He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.
“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”
He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 
“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”
The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 
“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”
He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.
The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.
“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”
The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.
The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.
“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”
The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 
“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”
His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 
He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.
“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”
Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.
Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.
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The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.
It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.
It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 
Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.
Maybe it was too late.
You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 
“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”
“You should have brought a jacket.”
The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.
Jungkook.
He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.
He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.
“You came.”
He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.
“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.
“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”
He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”
You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.
“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.
“Every word.”
His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.
“Why did you run away?” Another step.
You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.
“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”
One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 
“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”
You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”
All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 
“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 
“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 
Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 
“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 
“I would like it if you would.”
As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 
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“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 
“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 
“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”
Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 
Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.
“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 
“Really? I couldn’t tell.”
He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 
“You’re such a little smartass.”
His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 
He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 
“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 
You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 
“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 
Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 
“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 
His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 
“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 
“Feels pretty real, huh?”
“Y-yeah.” 
Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 
“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 
Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 
One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 
“How about this? Not a dream?”
He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 
“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”
You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 
“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 
“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 
You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 
“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”
He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 
“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 
He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 
Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 
“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”
Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 
“Still dreaming?” 
He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 
“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.
You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 
“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”
Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 
“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”
His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 
His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.
“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 
His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.
“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 
Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 
“I plan to find out everything.” 
Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.
“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.
“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 
He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 
He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 
“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 
Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 
He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  
He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 
“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 
His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 
“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 
He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.
His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.
One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.
“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”
His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.
“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.
“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”
Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.
“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”
He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.
“And I need you, my love.”
“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”
Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.
“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 
He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.
After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 
“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”
You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.
“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”
He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”
“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”
He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”
A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.
“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”
“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”
Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.
“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”
You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.
“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”
Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.
“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”
“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”
Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.
“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”
Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.
“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”
He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.
“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”
You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.
“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 
He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.
“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”
The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 
“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”
A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.
He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.
“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”
With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.
“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”
You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”
His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 
He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.
Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.
After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.
“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”
You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.
“All yours.”
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“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 
You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.
You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.
“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”
Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.
“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”
Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”
Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 
You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.
“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.
“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”
Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.
Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.
“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”
You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.
“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”
Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.
“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”
You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.
“Sure, Kookie.”
He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”
Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”
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© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
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lipstickstainz · 3 years
Text
true lies - s. r. (8/15)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.
Chapter Summary: You and Spencer meet at your favorite coffee shop - and he asks you to spend some time with him.
Warnings: some minor talk about injuries, mostly fluff
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: hello friends! here’s part 8! I hope you like it. gif not mine.
Series Masterlist
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previous part
As you enter the bullpen through the glass door, you are immediately stopped. "What are you doing here?", Emily asks, confused. She's standing at JJ's desk, both of them holding a coffee cup, looking at you in amazement. "I told you to stay home."
As you set your bag down on your desk, you wince briefly. "It's boring at home. Besides, it's just a minor bruise, Emily. And sitting at a desk doesn't require much physical exertion. I can handle it."
JJ presses her lips together. "I thought the doctor put you on bed rest because you narrowly escaped a broken rib." You give her a meaningful look. "Sorry, Y/N. You should take that seriously."
"You don't have to stab me in the back, though", you say playfully, and the three of you grin. "Desk duty?" Your eyes shift to Emily. She shakes her head and you sigh.
"We're on a case, Y/N. So no desk duty, and like JJ said, the doctor put you on bed rest."
You cross your arms in front of your chest, carefully, because the skin underneath is stained dark blue. You took quite a beating on your last case. The unsub kicked you in the torso with all his might as you tried to wrestle him down. And even though the pain shot through your whole body like a lightning bolt, you managed to do it.The result is a bruised rib that hurts a lot, but isn't so bad that you can't go on a mission.
Only Emily disagrees. "Go home, Y/N. Get some rest. If we need your help, we'll get back to you." You want to say something else, but she beats you to it. "That's an order."
Reluctantly, you shoulder your bag and try not to let the pain in your torso show. "You promise to call me if you need anything, though?"
Both women paint a cross over their chests where the heart is located. "Word of honor."
You don't feel like going home, because there's absolutely nothing waiting for you there. You could clean - which is against the bed rest, which you wouldn't stick to anyway - or cook something sensible, because your stomach has only had to experience ready-made meals and fast food lately, but you don't feel like it. Although it would be just the thing for you. A bit of everyday life would do you good, maybe take your mind off Spencer for a bit, and honestly, your life needs to get back on track.
So before you head to your local supermarket, you step into your favorite coffee shop. The smell of coffee wafts into your nose and the atmosphere alone warms you up, even though it's not particularly cold outside. You stand at the end of the queue, examining the pastries displayed in a small window. After ordering, you wait patiently for your drink and the muffin you couldn't pass without your mouth watering. The barista wishes you a nice day as she hands you the cup and you make your way towards the exit.
"Y/N?"
Your gaze lingers on Spencer, who is sitting at one of the small tables.  In front of him are several loose sheets of paper that take up the entire table and an empty coffee cup. You bite your lower lip. It's been several weeks since you've seen each other, as Spencer's one hundred days of work has expired and he's now teaching some students. As he smiles at you, you realize how much you've missed him these past few days.
"Hi, Spencer", you smile at him as you stand in front of his table. Your fingers curl around the back of the empty chair in front of you. "How are you?"
He reaches for the slips of paper in front of him and folds them before putting them in his pocket. "I'm fine, thanks." He closes his bag before placing it on the table. "What are you doing here? Don't you have a case to solve?"
"Emily gave me the day off. I took a kick and bruised up on our last case, so I'm not allowed to go out on case", you explain, shrugging. Spencer looks you up and down. He's probably trying to figure out where the injury is. "She sent me home again this morning."
Spencer gets up from his chair, shoulders his bag, and walks with you toward the exit. "So what are you planning to do today?"
"I was thinking about cooking myself something delicious and doing a little cleaning at home. To bring a bit of everyday life into my life," you answer and your tone tells him that you don't feel like it at all. "I'm not so sure about the cooking yet, though. After all, I don't want to risk food poisoning."
Spencer has to smile in response. "I can remember that. Everyday life isn't quite your thing."
You nod and pucker your mouth. "Right. But  I have to do something. And just sitting around at home waiting for the day to be over isn't an option."
Together, you walk a short distance, chatting about his students until you arrive at your car. You push the button on your key and hear the central locking system open. You open the driver's door. "See you around, Spencer," you say goodbye and are about to get in, but Spencer stops you.
"You could come with me", he suggests, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah. I'm about to teach another class, and you're welcome to join me." Blush rises to his face, and you're not quite sure if he's serious and really wants you there. But when he lifts his gaze from his shoes and looks you in the eye, your doubts evaporate. "So?"
"I'm actually Emily's phone joker“, you give out, because really, you're not sure spending the day with Spencer is the right thing to do, even if you'd only be sitting in the back of the lecture hall. "She wants to call me if they need help." You see Spencer's expression darken. Apparently he was excited to have you on board today, and your cancellation actually seems to hit him a bit. You take a deep breath. "But I'll still be happy to come along. If Emily does call, it could be very interesting for your students."
A smile spreads across his face, reaching up to his eyes. "Well then, let's go. Class starts in twenty minutes."
There's something comforting about sitting in the back of the lecture hall and listening to Spencer explain things to his students. It reminds you of the time you sat on your couch in the evenings, eating delivery dinners and watching documentaries. The TV sound was always on mute because Spencer's knowledge was so vast that his versions of the documentaries were much more exciting than the original versions. Those evenings had been perfect. Listening to him now, with a passion that seems all too familiar, the way he explains things and the looks he casts around the room, some sticking to you, come pretty close to those perfect evenings.
The ringing of your phone snaps you out of your thoughts. The students in front of you turn around in annoyance and you apologize as you get up from your seat. Spencer looks at you questioningly, but you just press your lips together into a thin line as you look at him and leave the lecture hall.
"What's up, Emily?", you ask her as you answer the call.
"The unsub always leaves puzzles at the crime scene", she begins without greeting you. You don't blame her. "And always different puzzles. Self-created crossword puzzles, number sequences, picture puzzles and symbol series, for example. Maybe you can take a look at them sometime." Emily emails you the puzzles, and before you can ask how the case is going, the line goes silent. Typical Emily.
You open the emails and are inundated with images. Emily definitely didn't overstate. As you head back into the lecture hall, you give Spencer a meaningful look.
"Excuse me for a moment", he says to his students and is with you in just a few steps. "Does Emily have something for us?"
Us. As he says the word, you warm to it. While he doesn't mean it the way you'd like, you're incredibly glad that he considers you friends. Although, really, you don't deserve it, because it's all based on a lie. You push the thought aside. Spencer is standing so close to you that you can breathe in his perfume and feel the warmth of his body. You have to pull yourself together not to inhale his scent deeply.
"The unsub leaves puzzles at the scene", you describe the situation, handing him your phone so he can take a look. You can practically see his brain start to rattle and before you can do anything, Spencer walks forward again.
"So, guys. This", he turns back to his students and gestures for you to join him with a wave. Tense and a little nervous, you stand next to him and raise your hand. "Is my colleague and friend SSA Y/N Y/L/N. Since she sustained some injuries on her last case, she is assisting me today." He hands your phone back to you. "Can you project the pictures on the wall somehow?" he whispers to you and you have to grin. The guy has several PhDs, but can't manage to connect a cell phone to a projector. You tap the screen a few times, playing it safe to make sure the projector on the ceiling is actually turned on, and moments later the puzzles appear on the wall behind you. Spencer smiles at you.
"Today you have the honor of working on a real and, more importantly, current case", Spencer speaks to the students again, curiosity spreading across their faces. They all sit up straight and listen intently as he paces. "Unit Chief Prentiss and our team are in the field right now and have found these puzzles at the crime scenes. Please take a look and let us know your thoughts. Maybe you can give us an important clue."
Immediately, the students start talking to each other, sharing theories and jotting down their thoughts on paper. Spencer and you lean against his desk at the time, watching the scene. You keep noticing how some of the female students give him ogling looks, but as soon as they meet your gaze, awkwardly turn back to the task at hand.
"How many people audit in your class?", you ask him quietly, Spencer shrugs. "Because I think the girls in the first two rows are just here to stare at you." You nudge him with your shoulder and stifle a grin.
"You and your imaginations", he replies, but he has to grin, too. He opens his mouth, about to say something else, but a student beats him to it.
"Professor, agent, I think we've found something."
And indeed. Together you are able to crack the puzzles, which takes the rest of the day, but neither you two nor the students complain about it. After you update Emily on your progress and send the students home, they actually thank you and ask if you'll keep coming to class.
As Spencer packs up his things and the last people leave the lecture hall, you wait patiently for him at the exit. The day has been pretty exhausting, but you're glad you got to spend it with Spencer. You're sure that today is a very good start for a friendship. And that alone makes your heart beat a little faster.
A young woman suddenly stops in front of you, and you avert your eyes from Spencer. You recognize her. She was sitting in the front row until just now, and she was one of the girls staring at Spencer throughout.
"Agent Y/L/N?" She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and chews on her bottom lip. She's visibly nervous. "Can I ask you something?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Sure."
"Are you ... I mean ... are you and Professor Reid a couple?", she stammers. "I know it's a pretty personal question. But I've noticed the way they look at each other and -"
"We're colleagues and friends", you interrupt her immediately. You don't sound harsh, but your tone doesn't leave room for another question either, so she turns away with a quick nod of her head and disappears from the lecture hall. You look after her.
How did you look at each other? The way friends do, right? Maybe there was some longing in your looks, after all, you love Spencer, but you're pretty sure that wasn't the case with him. When Spencer walks up to you and puts a hand on your arm, you flinch briefly in shock. "Are you okay?"
You nod at him. "Uh, yeah." Together, you leave the room. Should you tell him about the question? Or would that be weird in light of the fact that you had actually been a couple once? "She had another question." Spencer looks at you, a sign that you should keep talking. "She asked if we were a couple." At your answer, he stops and looks at you curiously. "She was one of the ones eyeing you. She said we looked at each other in a special way, or something. But I think she just wanted to know if you were available." The situation is so weird that you can't stop talking. Luckily, Spencer eventually interjects.
"And what did you say to her?" He sounds unsure.
"What would you like me to have said to her, Spencer? We're colleagues and friends." You adjust the bag on your shoulder and smile slightly at him before turning and continuing towards the exit. You want to escape this moment and are relieved when the wind outside hits your face and cools your heated skin. Finally, you can take a breath.
You don't see Spencer's expression twist and his voice is just a whisper that you don't notice. "Right ... friends."
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Forgive, But First Fun - Nandor x f(vampire) reader
Summary: After getting left behind to fight off a pack of werewolves on your own, now mad at Nandor, you and Nadja have decided a little night out couldn’t hurt.
Warning: slight angst, fluff, fun times, and a tiny smut mention
Masterlist
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Trudging angrily through the manors wooden doors, face stern and almost scary enough to put the fear of God into anyone. Your boots stomp into the large opening and onto the wooden floor boards as Gullimero, Nandor, and the documentary crew follow you in.
Your cloak is ripped and dirty as it lays in a pathetic black heap of cloth in Gullimero’s arms, your hair not looking any better, not to mention your face and arms that have various cuts paired with grass smudge marks adoring your skin. All in all you look like a hot mess.
“What the fuck happened to you lot? You’ve been gone all night.” Questions Laszlo as he walks into view from out of one of the hallways, his eyes scanning over a perfectly clean and handsome Nandor, then over to the dirty crew and disheveled Guillermo who’s got some leaves stuck to his hair.
“I don’t know.” You snap sarcastically, “How about you ask Mr. Dodgy-shit-stick over there.” Referring to Nandor who’s looking anywhere but you, keeping as silent as ever.
Gullimero looks between you and Nandor, then back at a confused Laszlo. “Oh, um they’re not speaking to each other right now.”
“And why the fuck not?”
Guillermo sighs before leaning towards Laszlo, “Nandor wanted to graffiti where the werewolves live and Y/N said he’d get caught and then Nandor said no I won’t and then he did.”
Laszlo raises a curious brow, “That’s it?”
“Oh, um....” Guillermo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, suddenly pulling off a green leaf, “then they chased us to the park and when the pack closed in on us Nandor turned into a bat and left us behind so Y/N had to fight one of them off so we could escape and now we’re here.”
“Well that sounds rather exciting.”
“Not at the time.” Whispers Guillermo to no one in particular as he glances over at the camera.
“Huh,” Mutters Laszlo thoughtfully, scratching his beard as he thinks of how to help this situation, “well if you two dingbats aren’t talking to one another I believe Nadja needs you Y/N. Something about....well actually I’m not entirely sure.”
Perking up ever so slightly at this positive news, you cross your arms over your chest defiantly, “Well since someone does, I’ll be going then.” You grumble with a low growl at your Nandor who’s refusing to make eye contact while he stares frustrated at the floor.
Nodding in acknowledgment, Laszlo watches you stomp angrily up the steps before turning his head over to Nandor who’s now watching you leave with big sad eyes.
“Alright why’d you do it?” Interrogates Laszlo with a raised brow.
“Do whaaat?” Replies Nandor defensively, his once high and mighty aurora reappearing in an instant.
Rolling his eyes, Laszlo sets a hand on his hip sassily, “Well I sure as hell don’t want an angry Y/N wandering around this old place for the next however the fuck it takes you both to make up....in however fashion that may be. So I ask again, why’d you puss out and flee like a mangy opossum?”
Pursing his lips together in apprehensive embarrassment, Nandor mutters to himself before finally crossing his arms over his broad chest and sighing, “Because......I....I don’t know I panicked!” Exclaims the large vampire, causing Laszlo to start laughing. “Why are you laughing?”
Wiping a fake tear from his eye, Laszlo lets out a few more chuckles before finally composing himself, “My good man that is the second saddest thing I’ve ever heard. The first being when one of my many victims offered me one of their rare and exclusive Poki-muns card which I still have no idea what the fuck they were on about. Anyways, doesn’t matter, all I’ll tell is that you better make it up to her.”
“But she’s scary when she’s angryyy.” Whines Nandor with a frown.
“That’s all women my young pup, but since your lovely lady is a vampire she’s more dangerous.” He says while giving Nandor a kind pat on the back, “So uh, stay safe out there.” Adds Laszlo before turning and walking down the hallway leaving Nandor with his thoughts, Gullimero, and the documentary’s camera crew.
“What are you all looking at!” Snaps Nandor to the rest of the room.
——
“Oh my goodnessess that’s awful, my poor dark angel.” Soothes Nadja as you take a moment from your long and needed rant about the adventures in the park and Nandor’s cowardly stupidity. “That big hairy rhino doesn’t deserve you Y/N.” She reasons honestly, doing her best to make you feel better, knowing all to well the level of competent decision making skills of the other two vampires in the house.
“I know.” You mutter in agreement, your body tense and agitated as you pace back and forth in front of her as she sits in a chair, “Fucking beautiful idiot prick horse-fart of a husband. Urgghhh!” You proclaim loudly while throwing your hands into the air angrily, causing the furniture in the room to screech backwards across the old flooring at your outburst of vampiric energy. Nadja’s long obsidian hair blowing backwards as you do so while she keeps seated, unflinching.
Face softening, she gives you a sympathetic smile, “Oh my lovely fierce lioness, I know exactly what will make that sad little frown turn into a happy one.” Beams Nadja with an excited clap of her hands.
Hugging your sides, you let out a frustrated huff before giving your old friend a shrug, “What do you have in mind?”
——
“So we’re at the carnival!” Claps Nadja in delight as she smiles at the camera, “This will hopefully relieve Y/N’s pent up angers and keep her mind off of Nandor.....for now.” She adds a bit uncertainly.
“HA HA take that fuckers!” You shout joyfully from behind her, the camera panning over to you at the ball toss where you’ve been knocking down plastic bottles with a rubber ball. The stall owner cowering in the corner as he shields himself with a stuffed zebra.
The camera focuses back on Nadja, “I think it’s going really well so far.” She confirms with a convincing grin. “Relieving all that..uh....rage.” 
After winning a stuffed snake taller then you and deciding to wear it as a strange fashionable scarf, you and Nadja are wandering the carnivals streets while people watching to pass the time.
“So that’s why I never walk on the roof after 3am when I’ve had homeless man’s blood.” Rambles Nadja as your thoughts about Nandor come trickling down into your brain and nose. Huh, strange, must be cause you’re still wearing a thin red scarf of his.
No, stop thinking about him.
“Good lesson learned then,” You add with the flash of a smile before nudging her shoulder gently, “hey you wanna watch me win you something cool?”
Perking up in an instant, Nadja smiles a devilish fangy grin as she stops to eye up the multiple game stalls, “Why I would be delighted my dear Y/N, how about....um, oooh I want that giant tropical fishy with the long whiskers over there.” Points Nadja as your eyes travel over to the game stall with the large prizes.
It’s a game that requires the individual to shoot an arrow directly on three different sized bullseye’s stationed at various heights. Smiling like an idiot, you nudge your vampiric acquaintance in agreement, the both of you quickly swaggering over to the carnival game and it’s plush flashy prizes just screaming to be won.
“Hello good sir, my skilled roommate Y/N here is going to win me that fish.” Beams Nadja proudly as the teenager jumps off his chair to greet the two of you.
He smells like weed but surprisingly looks decent all things considered, “Uh yeah alright, two bucks for three arrows, hit every target directly on the middle red mark and if you make it on the bonus poster on the far back wall then you’ll have a chance to win that fish, good luck.” Mumbles the kid unenthusiastically as you slide him the cash.
Picking up the shitty yet still functional carnival bow, you give Nadja a wink before fitting an arrow in the nock and pulling back, lining up the shot and releasing directly into the first target to the left. Smirking to yourself you quickly draw again, hitting your second mark just as intended. Pays to be a skilled archer huh.
“Damn that’s pretty good aim.” Nods the teen as he watches in awe as you fit another arrow, releasing and punching a hole in the middle of the third target.
Nadja claps in excitement from behind you, “Yes! Win me that colorful fat bitch my feisty lioness!”
Standing like a warrior ready for battle with your bow in hand and wind blowing in your face, the kid almost drops the arrow he hands you for the winning shot as he practically swoons.
“Get those scissors ready, that fish is mine.” You growl in determination while picturing Nandor’s head as the final target, drawing back, you let the arrow fly straight into the bonus target. Winning Nadja her giant fish plushy.
“Yessss!” Shouts Nadja in delight as you drop the bow onto the table like a bad bitch before eyeing up the kid with a raised brow, “We’ll be taking the fish now.”
Wide eyed he almost falls off his chair, “Wait um, that’s the last one...I didn’t think, uh, my boss doesn’t want me to give away those ones.” He stutters out.
“What!” Snaps Nadja, “Then why are they just hanging there? You lied to us you little shit!”
“I’m sorry.” He pleads apologetically, “That’s what my boss told me. And no one ever wins the big prizes anyway so I didn’t think...”
“Well your boss he can eat a big horse turd cause I’m taking that fish.” You growl before jumping up and unhooking the fish from its perch above your heads, handing it to a practically glowing with joy Nadja who immediately hugs the thing.
Sticking your tongue out at the teen, you and Nadja turn to leave before a boney hand is suddenly on your shoulder, twisting around in an agitated instant, your face is mere inches from the wide eyed boy as he attempts to look even a tad bit threatening.
“No.” Is the only thing that slips from your tongue before your hand shoves him back, his whole body going air bound into the back of the carnival tent while the kid lets out a panicked scream.
“Ooooh Y/N that was very sexy of you.” Smirks Nadja while wiggling her dark brows, “Too bad a certain cowardly lion wasn’t here to see it.”
Petting the stuffed toy snake around your neck absentmindedly, you smile back a fangy grin, “Yes. Too bad.”
Continuing on your late night stroll through the carnival you both pass by random strangers, families, elders, children, and lovers all minding their sweet business completely unawares to the dark supernatural world walking right past them.
Although you’re quite enjoying this time spent with your best friend in the whole wide world, a low dull feeling of emptiness can’t help but creep into your undead being the more you catch sight of new and old couples walking together.
Sensing your growing sadness, Nadja nudges your shoulder playfully to gain your distracted attention, “Hello in there my black rose, what is on your mind?”
Holding the snake close to your body, a small smile creeps its way onto your face knowing she’s looking out for you, though it’s gone soon enough, “Oh you know....uh....blood.” You mutter unenthusiastically, trying to keep your thoughts away from Nandor and how much you miss him right now.
“Blood is it? But we just fed before attending the carnival.” Inquires Nadja in confusion as she keeps a normal pace at your side while the two of you follow the sidewalk past various shops and restaurants. “What is actually plaguing your mind my dear one?” She wonders with a frown, not keen on seeing you upset and in a grey mood.
Biting your lip anxiously, though not hard enough to draw blood, you walk past a couple more people before your eyes catch the sight of a small black bat disappearing behind a corner building just up ahead.
Squinting your eyes, your nose suddenly catches the scent of someone very familiar, “Nandor?”
Turning her head to face you, Nadja’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “What? No my sweet hurricane, forget that mangy old bear he’s not important right now.” Urges Nadja as she looks forward, suddenly surprised to catch a glimpse of someone who looks a lot like Guillermo racing behind the same corner you saw the bat fly behind. “Okay um what the fuck? Did you see that too?”
Glancing at Nadja you nod before quickening your steps as she does the same, her skirts flowing as she tries to catch up with you, though you’re much faster and with lack of annoying dress material, “Wait! You’re too fast.” Yelps Nadja.
Ignoring her protests you book it down the sidewalk like a maniac, almost running into a jogger before skidding round the corner of the brick building and coming face to face with a wide eyed Guillermo who gasps in surprise. Nudging him to the side, your eyes immediately fall upon the nervous fangy grin of your Nandor.
He gives you a shy little wave before shuffling awkwardly in place, awaiting your rampage of verbal and possibly physical assault that he’s certain is in the near future.
Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms over your chest defensively, “Were you following me?”
“Um, well.....I might have been....but only to make sure you were okay.” Mutters Nandor honestly, eyes shifting from you to the ground nervously as he awaits your wrath.
Pursing your lips together in thought, you shake your head before taking off the stuffed toy snake and holding it firmly in your hands. With a low growl do you grasp the snake in your right hand and hold it back like you might swing at any moment.
“You’re a fucking nincompoop you know that right?” Slips from your mouth without an once of anger lacing your words, instead do you hand the snake to Gullimero as Nandor watches in puzzled fear.
Taking a swift step forward, you point a finger into his strong chest while looking sternly up at him, “Racing off and leaving me too fight that angry bitch all by myself, and now following me when I needed a break from you! Nandor....... you’re something else.” You add with a shake of your head.
“Yes I know, and I’m sorry my love.” Smiles Nandor with saddened eyes, “I promise to keep you save from now on and fight off any werewolf who tries to hurt you....even if I am scared.”
Taking a step back, you can’t help the smirk that forms onto your face at his sweet words of forgiveness and sincerity. You know how much he fears werewolves and that he fled the scene thinking you were planning on following too, not realizing that you might actually give a shit about Gullimero’s and the crew’s lives.
“Oh my dear puff dragon,” You declare softly with a small smile, reaching both hands out to grasp his own, “I forgive you.”
Nandor’s face breaks out into the biggest and happiest grin you’ve seen since his last birthday when he walked into your shared crypt only to find you naked and holding a bushel of red roses while seated seductively on his coffin.
“Oh that’s fantastic because I was really missing you.” Reveals Nandor with a gentle squeeze of your hands. “Laszlo and Guillermo can’t make me laugh nearly as much as you can, they’re honestly rather boring.” He says before leaning in closer to whisper, “and not very attractive to look at either.” Causing you to crack another grin and your undead heart to fill with butterflies. 
Chuckling you reach up with one hand to pull his collar closer to you and a second later do your lips clash sweetly against one another in a heated moment of passion. He smiles into the kiss before moving to pull you in closer with both of his hands, one slipping low to cheekily pinch your round bottom.
Feeling him against you once again has to be the best sensation in the whole entirety of the world even if you’ve only been separated for a couple of hours. You absolutely love the way his fingers dig into your back and bum with an animalistic eagerness that’s slowly starting to drive you insane. Oh, the things he does to you.
Especially how his tongue slips into your mouth with ease while you tug at his hair long dark locks. “Y/N!” Suddenly shouts Nadja.
“Nandor!”
Begrudgingly pulling away, you turn around to face the confused lady vampire while Nandor hugs you from behind, happily smirking at her, knowing she can’t do anything to hurt him now. “Yes Nadja.” You answer.
With the fish plushy hung over her shoulder, her brows furrow in confusion, “What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were mad at him?”
“Yeah well, I was starting to really miss him and also I’m kind of horny now so.” You reply with a shrug as Nandor hugs you tighter, resting his bearded chin against your head while Nadja huffs in defeat.
“Alright. See you at home then.” Adds Nadja before turning towards Guillermo and shoving the giant carnival fish into his arms, “Hold this Gizmo I’m going home.” Then just like that she’s gone in a black wispy poof, flying away in bat form towards the vampire resistance on Staten Island.
“Okay then.” Mutters Gullimero as he looks up at the dark sky.
Feeling a wet kiss on the side of your face and neck you smile before turning around to face your dear husband, “Shall we take flight to seek out our bed chambers?” You speak slyly in a soft yet seductive voice.
“Yes.” Grins Nandor with a flash of lust and excitement before turning his attention over to Guillermo, “Hey Guillermo I’m leaving to make passionate love to my wife so don’t bother us or I will have a rat shit in your pillowcase. Okay?”
You giggle to yourself as Gullimero’s cheeks redden while he side eyes the camera, “Understood master. Have fun.” Squeaks out the loyal familiar as he stands there awkwardly with his hands full of two carnival prizes.
Nandor sneakily squeezes your bottom once more as he gives Gullimero a knowing smirk, “Oh, we will.” Then a second later you two are flying high above the city in bat form, ready to make love to your sweet Nandor for probably the twentieth time that week.
Down below the camera pans over to Gullimero as he blinks, “Well uh, I have these things now..” He says, holding up the fish, “and I am so not looking forward to cleaning up their mess.......again.”
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mazuwii · 3 years
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Zeke SFW Alphabet
Flying monke
Hey bestie, I see you like Mr Monke😏
No shame! No shame!😤 I am writing the chapters everyone has requested but I got asked to do a Zeke alphabet first so here it is
—A (Affection. How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
•Not very physically affectionate in public, he tends to give you stares that gives you the same warm feeling you get from being hugged tightly.
•When you crash into him for a hug, he's so shocked and confused, his heart is dancing at the feeling of your warm little body right against his, affectionately rubbing his back. Before he knows it, he's silently crying, holding your face to his chest so that you don't see.
•Zeke never knew hugs felt so nice and now whenever he's feeling down or whenever you both have nothing to do, he randomly opens his arms up and waits for you to run into them. If you take too long all he does is twitch his hands slightly, which is funny and cute.
•I can see him being way more affectionate in the nighttime, where you're sleeping on him and you mumble under your breath, he kisses your head and strokes your cheek, lovingly gazing at you.
—B (Bestfriend, how would he be like as a best friend, how would the friendship start?)
•Zeke would be the bestest friend ever, sure he isn't the most affectionate or upfront friend but he is incredibly reliable!
•Always defending you behind your back. He insults you but then compliments and uplifts you behind your back to other people. Basically your lawyer.
•I will never stop saying this, Zeke Jaegar is intelligent as fuck and hates small talk so his conversations are so delicious, so full of flavour. His intelligence turns you on so hard, he is so fun to talk to because A, he makes fair points and teaches you things, B, he has a good sense of humour, C, he genuinely listens. He wants your opinion and understands your point of view on the subject.
—C (Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
•Before getting into a relationship, he always thought hugs would be stiff and horrible, especially in bed but he discovered that he was wrong.
•When you were spooning him, he couldn't nearly think straight from the appreciation he felt. Your arm was so secure around his waist and your body was warm against him, it was a feeling that made him wish he was immortal and experience this FOREVER!
•He likes it when you bring yourself to him, automatically. He finds it cute and always compliments you when you do. It isn't a full-of-shit-flattery compliment, he means it.
•"Why- on this gruesome green earth, are you so cute?" He kisses your head as you nestle yourself on his chest. "Mind telling me? Hm?" He pecks your head again and tightens his arm around you.
•One thing he will die to protect is you, he wants to hide you away from all the horrors of the world and treasures you so much and one way to do it is to tightly hold you right against him, melting at the sound of your giggle.
—D (Domestic. Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
•Zeke wants to live in a cottage with you, secluded from other humans. All the serenity of it relaxes him, it's one thing he'd never stop thinking about.
•Sure he wants to settle down but he'd never want to have kids. He sees himself as a failure to all and can see his little ones hating his guts, having to hear them exclaim how much they hate their papa (even if it's just his imagination) terrifies him.
•He felt like everyone hated him, but you and his grandparents and Mr Ksaver. Children would be too much stress
•As for cooking and cleaning, I don't think he's good with cooking or cleaning. He doesn't really make a mess so it's okay that he isn't good at cleaning
•However he isn't bothered with cooking actual food, he'd always just have fruit or instant noodles when he's hungry. So you'd have to be a good cook because my mans has no motivation for that stuff
—F (Fiance(e) How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
•Like I said before, Zeke isn't good on relationships so if you both last more than a year and he realises you've helped him as a person and he has helped you, he secures it.
•But proposing would be difficult, he's shy, scared, worried you may laugh and blow him off.
•Eventually he gives in and asks, a heavyweight washing off his shoulders when you said yes, even getting butterflies when he realised you were crying.
—G (Gentle. How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
•His inner child is bruised, you can see a little boy in him anytime he smiles properly, it makes your heart shatter to know that he never experienced his childhood properly and is currently a little boy in an old man's body
•He is gentle, he tries so hard to be soft with you and touches you like you're made of glass. H o w e v e r, my man does not hold back when it comes to baseball.
•Zeke is so happy when he's playing baseball with you that he doesn't realise he may have thrown too hard and only realises it when you grunt at the impact it made with your collarbone, dropping everything and running to check on you.
—H (Hugs. Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
•He hesitates at first when your smaller body collides with his, he had let out a small yelp but couldn't help smiling when your arms get tighter in desperation.
•Slowly and gently, he'd embrace you back and smell your hair.
•Zeke's hugs are warm, secure and surprisingly cuddly. He's too shy to hug you first, you'd have to hug him first and he'd not hesitate anymore. Sometimes, when he's missed you so much, he'd hug so tight that your legs float off the floor, completely powerless in his embrace.
—I (I love you. How fast do they say the L-word)
•Zeke thinks a lot so admitting that he loves you would be an epiphany, even years into the relationship. He genuinely can't believe someone loves him and stayed with him.
•He'd say it with a kiss to your forehead, small freckles of tears glistening in his eyes when he stares longingly at you.
—J (Jealousy. How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)
•Very jealous but he keeps it to himself. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. He realises anytime a man talks to you and you smile around them, he can feel himself shrink. He's all dramatic in his head, wondering if he'd ever been enough for you or if you finally realised you deserved a better guy than him.
•All of those thoughts would disappear when you take his hand or talk to him with the tone you always use with him, a cheerful and appreciative one.
—K (What are his kisses like? Where does he like to kiss you? Where does he like to be kissed?)
•Zeke's kisses are hesitant and full of pauses. Sometimes you do most of the work, bringing him closer and all that while he's questioning if he deserves you.
•When Zeke tries to be affectionate, he likes to kiss your forehead, crown of your head, cheek, lips in private. It's reassuring and he loves his little lady more than anything. This small kiss passes on so much serotonin through your skull.
•Zeke doesn't have a specific preference but when you pepper his face with kisses it makes him so happy and fireworks go off in his tummy. With your hands gently cupping his face and your lips pressing every area on his face he softly holds onto you with a flustered smile.
—L (Little ones. How are they around children)
•Lol, he's like their older bro but a lil more distant
Let's move on...
—M (Morning. How are mornings spent with them?)
•Zeke's life is full of duties and priorities but he wishes with his full heart that he could spend the rest of his life lazily holding you with you peacefully laying by his side
•To his dismay, he must leave you to sleep. He has to get up earlier and doesn't bother waking up his sleeping angel, getting ready for work and leaving- not without kissing your cheek. Even if you're fast asleep, Zeke tucks you in and pecks your cheek, admiring you for a few seconds before heading on with his day.
•I'd say on good days, you make an effort to wake up with him and make breakfast so that he doesn't go to work and smoke ciggerates on an empty stomach. Fucking idiot, sorry but don't do that 🙄 even to my readers, don't smoke bestie💜
—N (Night. How are nights spent with them?)
•He does sleep at a reasonable time, sometimes at ten PM, sometimes at eight PM..
•Before bed he'd watch a documentary with you while having dinner and probably tire himself out by sucking in all that knowledge (the TV voice makes him sleepy, so you can see his eyelids drooping when he lies about how he isn't tired... it's cute)
•When it's time for bed he does the usual routine and gets into bed after smoking... which is pretty painful for you to watch but you won't scold him, you'll bring him closer to you and kiss his nose, massaging his scalp and becoming limp when his hand is soft at your waist, caressing patterns with his slender fingers until you fall asleep.
—O (Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
•Zeke thinks he is the scum of the Earth and wouldn't be surprised if you thought so too. It'd be difficult for him to mention any of his trauma so it all comes out through his humour.
•Daddy issues jokes, mommy issues jokes, self-deprecating jokes and you go through so many until you realise the man is traumatised. I can say with full confidence that he once tried making a joke for the millionth time and ended up crying instead of laughing. Of course, you were reassuring and comforted him in every way he needed.
—P (Patience. How easily angered are they?)
•Very patient when it comes to his S/O, he doesn't force anything out of you and slowly, gently speaks.
•Zeke doesn't become angry easily, honestly, he's so smart and open-minded that it becomes a problem because he understands so many things, unable to use his emotions to his advantage.
•Again, emotions pass and are useless to him, they just come and go so he doesn't like feeling too vividly. Especially anger, he thinks there's no use in it.
—Q (Quizzes. How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)
•Like I keep saying, Zeke is a smart, attentive person even when he doesn't mean to be. He pays attention to small details by accident and remembers subconsciously. He memorises a lot of your habits, bad and good and makes notes of when and where they mostly happen, adapting to your lifestyle without realising.
•Someone is asking what to get for your birthday and tries to get a type of chocolate flavour he remembers you despise and he gives away your full interests and a list of what you like, dumping an essay of your public info to one of your best friends and they're just like °_°...?
•It's cute, he just doesn't know his brain sucks everything about you in
—R (Remember. What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)
•When you took him out to dance and the music suddenly switched from formal dancing to just 'go crazy' and he watched you GO OFF. You were shaking your hip and hopping around energetically, glaring at him for laughing his ass off over the loud music.
•You forced him to dance with you, both of you whipping your hair back and forth, your movements less stiff but nonetheless, in sync. He's never had so much fun. No one he knew was there, it was all strangers but he felt like only you and he were there, dancing freely to the music, he'd just follow your lead confidently
—S (Security. How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)
•Zeke is so protective, paranoid but never expressing it, knowing he'd sound insane:
-"Angel, I have to go out with you because what'll happen if you suddenly get run over?!"
-"No you can't use the phone while it's in charge, what if it explodes in your face?!"
-"Cookie dough, don't try handstanding, you could snap your neck!"
-"No, I won't let you go up these faulty escalators, they could suddenly break open and swallow you, here let me hold your hand up the normal stairs."
-"Don't lean against the balcony, you could fall over!"
•So instead he does it sneakily. Like small solutions, in order, he'd: offering to help you shop when you go out, making you put your phone down to massage him, scaring you into stopping your handstands, holding your waist securely when you're both on the balcony.
•To feel protected, Zeke needs constant reassurance from you. Physically and emotionally. A small kiss on his cheek and a little "Don't overthink, I'm here, let it all out, I'll listen to your thoughts."
—T (Try. How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
•I think Zeke is more of a private person but his dates can be fun too. For anniversaries, you'd both have turns. For his half of the day, it would be spent playing baseball, going to the arcade, taking you out to dinner and then he'd warmly hold your hands in his, asking you what you want to do now.
•His gifts are so thoughtful but he tries to be cool when he gives it to you, lips straight and eyes avoiding you like a shy schoolboy. He can't keep his cool since you have to attack his face with kisses🙄 Jees Y/n stop it, he totally doesn't go insane when you do that to him, totally isn't in love
—U (Ugly. What are some bad habits of theirs?)
•I'd say the damn smoking. Zeke chose an unhealthy coping mechanism and needs guidance out of it, so you do just that.
•Taking his cigarettes and helping him get the nicotine out of his body through skipping rope, taking him to the sauna and even massaging his scalp when he has a headache.
•If course it'd be such a shock to him when he realises how nice he feels after his addiction is over, it's amazing what getting rid of one bad habit can do to your life.
—V (Vanity. How concerned are they with their looks?)
•Zeke trimmed his beard shorter and did his hair when he realised he had seemed to be ageing faster but... for the sake of my selfishness this is a modern au
•Surprisingly, he actually has good skin, a nice beard and a good haircut. Zeke is beautiful.
•Only once, has he ever shaved fully and my guy looked 10 years younger and was lowkey getting cocky but he rathered the beard and let it grow out... not too long though
—W (Whole. Would they feel incomplete without you?)
•Zeke is like the moon, it's a bit dark but it's still useful, however, it needs the sun to give it a boost? So what I'm trying to say is you're the sun to him, life wouldn't feel the same now that you've made your mark
—X (Xtra. A random headcanon for them.)
•I don't care what you say, he can do the entire dance for boy with luv by BTS. He doesn't know why he knows it so well, he's only seen the dance rehearsal once (yes he memorizes pretty fast)
•extra but, by the way, Monke man can figure out a Rubix cube faster than a War breaking out in AOT so... haha very fast👁👁
—Y (Yuck. What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
•He doesn't like a controlling partner, not everything has to go your way babe, life is always going to steer you in a different direction and it sometimes is in a better direction than the one you had first intended.
•So there's that
—Z (Zzz. What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
•This is funny to me for some reason? But once he lets go of your cuddle, he subconsciously sprawls his body out, and he does it for the entire night even when you're on top of him, his clothes are somehow half-off. The pillows are everywhere, the blanket is under his heavy thighs so you're freezing on him :")
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dirtychocolatechai · 3 years
Text
meet-cute | b.b.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): fluff, awkward Bucky, vet appointment stuff, Alpine Request: Babes if you're lowkey taking requests can I lowkey make one? 👉🏼👈🏼🥺💕 something flirty and cute and maybe a lil spicy with Bucky and vet!reader where something's going on with Alpine? Not self indulgent at all 😻💖 Notes: This was the first thing I’ve written in months and it felt damn good. Funny story, I actually almost went to school to be a vet tech + shadowed a vet for two weeks and got to see some wickedly cool things.
This was a bit self-indulgent on my part because I had a cat who passed away some years ago because of struvite stones and I wished he had a happier ending like Alpine so I thought why not 🤷‍♀️💖
Taglist is open
(gif from google)
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There’s nothing Bucky hates more than the stringent smell of industrial cleaners and clinical white walls - too many associations and shades of memory long laid to rest - except for when something’s going on with Alpine. The Turkish Angora was fine up until a few days ago when he started to hide away and sleep all day.
That wasn’t too concerning at first...
But then came the pained little noises, the frantic running back and forth from the litter box, the excessive grooming. The pit that started forming low in his belly grew, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, very wrong, with his little buddy. 
Bucky wasn’t about to fuck around and set up an appointment with the first vet office he could find that had a same-day opening. And now he’s trying not to fall apart at the seams while he waits for the docs to do their magic and tell him what the hell’s going on with his cat and what he has to do to fix it.
The vet tech collected Alpine a bit ago and every minute stretches into years, the cat’s pitiful meow echoing in his ears and those betrayed eyes burned onto the backs of his eyelids.
I know, Bub, I’m sorry but they gotta figure out what’s going on. It’ll be okay, they’ll take care of you. 
His ass went numb from the plastic chair ages ago, his leg jiggling up and down at a rapid pace as he chews on his thumbnail and waits.
And waits.
And waits.
God, he knows these things take time but he’d rather be back at home, curled up on the couch with Alpine pigging out on breakfast food and watching space documentaries. 
How much longer-
“Alright, Mr. Barnes?”
The heavy door swings open with a click, a kind, professional voice preceding a pair of sensible shoes as the vet steps into the room with a clipboard cradled against her chest. His eyes snap up, skipping over her completely to look at the tech holding his cat who looks absolutely miserable. 
She introduces herself but he’s not paying attention. He’s not meaning to be rude but all his focus narrows in on that white little face, the knot in his chest unfurling at the little mew.
He smiles, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he breathes, “Hey there, Little Buddy.” 
The vet doesn’t push, in fact, she seems a little enamored with how much he melts at the sight of his pet. Her own lips quirk up into a soft smile while she stands off to the side patiently as Alpine’s set down on the metal table.
Bucky gets in a few good scritches under his chin, the beginnings of a purr just starting to vibrate his hand when the vet clears her throat delicately. 
He clears his throat, heat burrowing into the apples of his cheeks. “Shi - uh, ‘m sorry.” A hand scrubs over the back of his neck. “I’m just - uh - y’know...” 
Her laugh trickles down his spine like warm rain, the sound effectively drawing his attention away from the cat rubbing up against his side. He gets his first look at her and oh.
A bare face and a no-nonsense hairstyle greet him, her scrubs and white coat adding to the overall doctor vibe but she’s still breathtaking. The natural beauty in the curves of her face, the slant of her brows, the sparkle of her eyes.
He feels like he got sucker-punched in the chest, his heart giving a sudden throb that has him coughing like an idiot as he scrambles to not look like such a jackass.
“So,” he clears his throat, scratching at the stubble along his jaw, “What’s - what’s wrong with him?” 
Glancing down at Alpine’s chart, she hums and writes a note before glancing back up with a reassuring smile. “Nothing that can’t be managed with a special diet and watching his water intake.”
It’s like the weight of the world disappears from his shoulders, his broad frame practically heaving with his sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking- ahem, ‘scuse me - thank god.” 
Her chuckle and sly smile have him blushing from the roots of his hair to the collar of his shirt, his stomach squirming in discomfort. Old habits are hard to break, especially ones his momma taught him with a box to the ear.
“You’re allowed to swear, Mr. Barnes,” she says, reaching down to run her fingers through snow-white fur. “We’re all adults here.” 
“No, no, I know...” 
“Hm, anyway, his blood work came back and everything looks fine which is a good thing.” 
And it’s back to business like that, any hint of personality hidden behind cool professionalism that Bucky thinks even Tasha would admire. Except for the playful gleam in her eyes as she sneaks peeks at him while going over everything they did and what they found. 
“Struvite crystals are quite common in cats at low levels, especially males because their tract is longer and narrower.” She pauses, flipping to a new page. “Depending on the severity, they can clump together in the urinary tract and actually form stones. That’s where the true problem lies because get one large enough, and it can cause a blockage.”
He’s listening with rapt attention, soaking in the knowledge she’s imparting to him all the while, petting Alpine who keeps nuzzling him and making little sounds. Honestly, he could listen to her talk for hours even if he didn’t understand a goddamn thing. 
She’s so animated when she speaks, holds eye contact and makes sure he understands everything without making him feel like an idiot. He’s had so many doctors who talked at him rather than with him, staring through him without seeing, more interested in the paycheck rather than their patients.
But not her, she cares.
Deeply.
He can see it all over her face and it’s utterly enchanting. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little enamored, charmed.
Turning the tablet towards him, she shifts closer and a waft of whatever perfume she’s wearing tickles his nose as she explains what the x-ray of Alpine’s abdomen found.
“These are the stones but thankfully they’re relatively small,” she points to several hazy white ovals starkly visible on the radiograph, “We caught them in time before they became a really big problem.” 
Shit, she smells so good...
 “Now, we’ll send you home with a special diet and see how he does. Also, make sure to up his fluid intake as much as you can. The food can take several months to start dissolving the crystals so we’ll have to do everything we can to help. Sound good?”
Bucky hasn’t pulled his eyes away from her face once this entire time, and how fucking creepy is that?
Quickly looking down at Alpine, embarrassment gnawing at his belly, he nods and wishes for the first time since he cut his hair that he hadn’t so he’d at least have a passing chance at hiding the blush burning its way across his face. 
“Yeah,” he says, picking up the ball of white fluff to hold against his chest, a makeshift shield. “Is there anything else I should do?” 
“No.” She smiles, writing another note and tapping away at the tablet next to her. “I do want to see him again in about a month for a check-up.”
Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave so soon.
The irony isn’t lost on him either.
How does he make this last longer? What can he do? If Sam was here right now, he’d be kicking him in the ass and bitching at him to ask for her number already, Ice Pick.
The clack of the chart being set down rings through the room, bouncing off the walls and sounding so fucking final that he starts to panic. 
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 
She’s already halfway to the door when she asks, “Do you have any questions?”
The word vomit spring from him, unbidden and sudden without any thought, more forward than he’s been with a woman in years.
“Can I have your number?”
As soon as the question leaves his lips, he curses, cringes and wishes he could snatch the very words from the air itself.
Great, I just hit on my vet.
No amount of backpedaling can salvage this but goddamn it if Bucky doesn’t try, stuttering out some half-assed excuse about wanting it just in case he thinks of something later.
When he glances up, he wishes he hadn’t. The vet tech is in near tears in the corner, biting her lips so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if they started to bleed.
But it’s the absolute surprised bafflement on the woman he just inappropriately hit on that does him in, makes him about ready to burn all forms of identification and run for the hills. 
Her brows nearly reach her hairline, her mouth slack, eyes startled. She gets ahold of herself before he does, and he barely stops himself from slapping a hand over his face.
Right when he’s thinking there’s no way he’s going to be able to show his face in the office again, her expression softens with gentle amusement and her lips twitch. 
Struck dumb, he can only watch as she writes something down on a slip of paper before handing it over to him. He barely believes the string of numbers and the cheeky little call me anytime :).
The wink she sends his way is there and gone, so fast he almost believes he imagined it. 
“For emergencies only,” she says, slyly. “Of course.”
“Of course,” he agrees, almost tripping over the cat carrier as he hurries to stuff Alpine back in. “Of course, thank you. I...appreciate it.” 
“Anytime, Mr. Barnes.” 
Bucky leaves the room in a stupor, the world sharply shifted to the left as he heads to the front desk to make the follow-up appointment, but not before hearing the whispered, “Girl, you’re lucky. He’s fine!” and the “He is, isn’t he?”. 
469 notes · View notes
Texts from The Lost Tomb, part 3
I didn’t mean for this to stray into angst but like the lack of updates with Li Cu in LTR?? I had to do it to em.
Wushanju Crew Chat, 11:05pm
Li Cu: what’s up losers I’m outside
Li Cu: someone come on and open the damn door
Wang Meng: Language:(
Li Cu: fine, someone come on and open the damn door please
Snake Eyes Chat, 7:00am
Wu Xie: hey are you awake? Sorry I missed you coming in:) was finishing up some work. How was the end of your first semester? Did that geology paper go well? Did the food budget work out or do you need some extra money next semester?
Li Cu: yeah about your work
Li Cu: heard a little rumor
Li Cu: about you going through some stuff during ur recent trip
Li Cu: some stuff you maybe forgot to mention
Li Cu: and you told me we gotta check in with stuff, so this is me checking in, okay
Wu Xie: oh? What stuff?
Li Cu: idk just like
Li Cu: THE STUFF WITH YOU ALMOST FUCKING DYING FOR FUCKING MONTHS AND THE WAREHOUSE SHIT AND ERJING AND PEOPLE HURT YOU AND WHAT THE FUCK IS A THUNDER CITY AND NOONE FUCKING CALLED ME ABT THOSE PARTS ONCE
Wu Xie: oh. That stuff.
Li Cu: yeah asshat I’m in the kitchen whenever you’re ready to explain your fucking bullshit. Also you’re out of milk wtf how am I supposed to make breakfast here
Main Chat, 11:14am
Wu Xie: okay so it’s possible I fucked up a little bit.
Wang Pangzi: THERES JUST SO MUCH YOU COULD BE REFERRING TO I DONT KNOW WHERE TO START
Zhang Qiling: What’s wrong?
Honorary Wu Chat, 11:30am
Wang Pangzi: KID IM SO SORRY THAT PUNK IS A TRAINWRECK BUT YOU KNEW THAT
Wang Meng: Welcome home, Li Cu <3 not much has changed, ultimately.
Wang Pangzi: IT DIDNT EVEN OCCUR TO ME THAT HE WOULDNT TELL YOU EVERYTHING ABOUT IT ONCE THE REST OF US FIGURED IT OUT
WAIT HOW DID YOU FIND OUT
Li Cu: it’s okay. not your fault, uncle. Doesn’t matter how I found out. Wait wait hold on what do you mean “the rest of us figured it out” who figured it out
Wang Pangzi: SAY HELLO LIU SANG
Liu Sang: …hello.
Wang Pangzi: SAY MORE THAN THAT.
Liu Sang: uh…so you’re Wu Xie’s protégé, huh?
Li Cu: oh well howdy there homewrecker
Liu Sang: Excuse me??
Zhang Qiling: I think someone on the roof is calling me and I should go find out.
Wang Meng: I would also very much like to be removed from this conversation.
Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHAHA KIDDO IVE MISSED YOU
Li Cu: all I’m saying is aren’t you the little creep who’s obsessed with Xiao Ge
Liu Sang: ???
Zhang Qiling: Li Cu is referring to a brief period of irrational thought on Wu Xie’s part, where he mistakenly believed you to be a threat to our relationship.
Liu Sang: what do you mean a threat??
Wang Pangzi: WHAT DO YOU MEAN TIANZHEN HAD “A BRIEF PERIOD OF IRRATIONAL THOUGHT”
YOUVE MET YOUR HUSBAND RIGHT
Wang Meng: can you please take me off this chat.
Liu Sang: Wait, so Wu Xie told you about me, but…reading between the lines, he didn’t mention the cancer or anything bad that happened? Oh yikes.
Li Cu: don’t change the subject “Liu Sang”
if that is your real name
Like yeah you’re right abt it but still
just saying
heard you got good ears but I’ve got snake powers
kinda
so like no more funny business okay you superhearing harlot
Wang Meng: LANGUAGE, LI CU. IN THIS HOUSE WE SHOW GOOD MANNERS.
Wang Pangzi: LMAO OH DO WE NOW
Zhang Qiling: Li Cu, this is all unnecessary and childish. Please apologize.
Li Cu: you say that now bruh but apparently you weren’t complaining when he was all “idol this” and “idol that”
oh and hey Wang Meng while we’re here can I show you my business class grade report later bc Wu Xie is all “what matters is that you learned and enjoyed the experience” blah blah all eat pray love you know how he gets and I want to actually discuss areas to improve so that when I take over this joint I do better than Wu Xie? Tho that shouldnt be hard lol
Wang Meng: hurtful but accurate. I’ll bring my best red pen:)
Liu Sang: oh my god. I’m too jetlagged to keep up with any of this.
Wang Pangzi: BEST. DAY. EVER. IM SCREENSHOTTING THIS FOR HEI XIAZI.
Not A Homewrecker Chat, 11:52am
Liu Sang: Okay, we started off on the wrong foot.
Li Cu: I agree let’s start over
Start with how your little prank game almost got ppl killed
Liu Sang: And I seriously regret that. But we moved past that.
Wow, he seriously skipped over so much bullshit but didn’t skimp on mine, huh.
Li Cu: AHA so you ADMIT IT
Liu Sang: I’d like to think I’ve grown since then. That I’ve come to see Xiao Ge as a person and mentor, rather than an idol. I count Pangzi and Wu Xie as my close friends. I’m going to be staying here with them right now, I hope you can be okay with that.
Li Cu: see in my head you were going to be a lot less mature about it and I had a bunch of great follow-up insults planned
Liu Sang: I figured. I’d like us to be friends, though. Or at least not enemies.
Li Cu: okay but only bc you don’t know me yet so you won’t judge too much for this and I need to get this out to somebody I’ve been thinking about it for hours and my friends are still in finals and I’m stressing a little bit maybe
Liu Sang: ?
Li Cu: I yelled at dad
*Wu Xie sorry autocorrect
Liu Sang: …uh huh.
Li Cu: I yelled at him earlier. for keeping all that stuff from me. He started crying
Liu Sang: Wu Xie has been pretty emotional since we got back. Not necessarily your fault.
Li Cu: I made him cry right there at the kitchen sink and it felt like maybe the worst thing I’ve ever done
Snake venom and stabbings, no tears
Me saying I wouldn’t have gone to his funeral, all tears
Which I know was shitty to say but I was really mad
Liu Sang: If it’s any consolation, I think Wu Xie can understand the concept of being led by his emotions to make bad decisions…better than most people.
Li Cu: Xiao Ge came in then and looked weird
Like weirder than usual
Like he didn’t know which of us to be more mad at
Liu Sang: A common problem for the iron triangle, I understand.
Li Cu: I just ran out I didn’t have words right then and I feel stupid
but whenever they come back from their walk I’m gonna say sorry and stuff bc i could’ve come home to his funeral and I’m mad about it but also like. I could have come home to his funeral. I can get mean when I’m in a freakout mood. It’s not like I was scared or anything at all I don’t get scared really anymore ever but just like. Freaked out.
Liu Sang: He’s probably going to say sorry, too.
Li Cu: sorry I called you a homewrecker. Didn’t mean to slut-shame either
Liu Sang: I admit that after the initial shock, it was pretty funny. Super hearing harlot, it should be on my business card;)
Li Cu: this situation with Wu Xie is weird but kinda good ya know. And I have these freakouts sometimes that something maybe bad could happen to this situation. So consider this a shovel talk. But like, also not a shovel talk at the same time.
also I appreciate you saving his life and whatnot
Liu Sang: Noted. Now. Coffee?
Li Cu: sounds sick.
Be in the kitchen in 10. You can pick out what we watch for the household tv show tonight. no way is Wu Xie choosing some dry documentary about gravestone rubbings again. Pangzi just watches real housewives reruns and Xiao Ge won’t watch tv after he caught the last half hour of A Walk To Remember. Also i need my phone now to send some $ to Hei Xiazi since I owe him for…providing some intel
Liu Sang: Not even surprised.
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staticscreenwriting · 3 years
Text
Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes
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One - When Harry met Sally 
Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing  up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)
[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]
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“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “
Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other. 
(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon. 
And yet …
Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.
A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.
“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand. 
The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend. 
“ I’m fine. “ 
Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead. 
“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “ 
“ ‘s not that bad. “ 
“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “
It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book. 
“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “ 
His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement. 
As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit. 
“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “ 
It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in. 
His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.
“ I - I uh — “ 
He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face. 
“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “ 
“ Huh? “ 
“ I asked if you want me to leave. “ 
As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear. 
“ Why would I ask you to leave? “ 
Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. 
“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “ 
It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.
“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “ 
Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief. 
“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “ 
“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “ 
This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle. 
“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “ 
“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “ 
“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 
“ Not really. “ 
“ Ah, what a shame.” 
Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.
“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.” 
Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.” 
“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “ 
He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.
“ No. Why? “ 
“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.” 
“ Huh. “ 
“ Mmmh.” 
After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.
“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “ 
“ Are you ?” 
“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.” 
“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky. 
The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.
“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes
“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “ 
“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “ 
Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.
“ No? “ 
“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “ 
“ Ran where? “ 
“ Away. “ 
“ Away as in you left. “ 
“ Mm-mmh” 
“ Just like that? “ 
“ Yup. “ 
“ Why? “ 
He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place. 
“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.” 
“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “ 
“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “ 
While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.
“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “ 
Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.
“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?” 
“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“ 
(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy. 
“ I have no idea what you just said. “ 
“ When Harry met Sally? “
Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.
“ You’ve never seen it? “ 
“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “ 
This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning. 
“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.
“ I — I don’t know. “ 
That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing. 
(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.
“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “ 
“ We are? “ 
“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “ 
“ I don’t even know you. “ 
“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back.  “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “ 
Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness. 
“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “ 
“ Perfect, Bucky. “ 
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“ Bring a jacket. “ 
The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing. 
Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries. 
Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar. 
His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook. 
“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “ 
(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly. 
Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can. 
“ Hi, (Y/N). “
“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue. 
“ I did. You told me to. “
“ And you listened! “ 
“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.
“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “ 
“ Wow. “ he exclaims.
“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “ 
She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.
“ Up? “ 
“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “ 
“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.
She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen. 
“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “ 
“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “ 
She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —
“ You coming, grumpy ?” 
“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “ 
The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around. 
This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice. 
A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people. 
Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles. 
“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back. 
“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “ 
“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “ 
“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “ 
Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns. 
“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “ 
“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “
“ You think so? “ 
She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “ 
Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.
“ I brought snacks. “ 
More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while. 
“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “ 
As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen. 
“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.
It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.
Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.
“ You okay, grumpy? “ 
He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile. 
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“ So, what did we learn today? “ 
Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment. 
“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “ 
(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “ 
He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others. 
“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “ 
“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “ 
“ That’s literally what happened. “ 
“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “
As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.
“ You think we’re friends? “ 
“ Oh, are we — are we not? “ 
“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “ 
(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.” 
“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “ 
“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “ 
Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “ 
“ Alright. Noted. “ 
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“ So have you talked to the girl again? “ 
“ Hmm? “ 
“ The one you went on a date with? “ 
“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.” 
“ Why not? “ 
Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.” 
“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “ 
“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “ 
“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “ 
“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “ 
That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.
“ Dancing, mostly.” 
“ Like, ballroom dancing? “ 
“ Swing. “ 
“ You swing dance? “ 
“ I did. “ 
(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “ 
“ You don’t believe me? “
“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “ 
Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in. 
“ You twirled me! “ 
“ Mm-mh.”
“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “ 
It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that. 
The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.
And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk. 
“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “ 
“ Gotta love the big city folk. “ 
“ Yup. “ 
“ Hey, Bucky.” 
“ What? “ 
“ You really can dance.” 
“ Told you. “ 
“ Can I tell you a secret? “ 
“ Sure. “ 
“ I can’t dance for shit. “ 
“ That so? “
“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “ 
“ Absolutely not.” 
“ Oh, 100%! “ 
“ We’ll see about that.” 
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There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.
Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now. 
The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.
“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.
“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “ 
“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “ 
“ Alright, if you say so. “ 
“ Thanks for walking me home. “ 
“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “ 
For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night. 
“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.
“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “ 
“ Can’t wait. “ 
A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye? 
“ I uh — I should go. “ 
“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.” 
“ You too, (Y/N).” 
“ Oh and Bucky? “ 
“ Yes? “ 
“ Give Leah a call. “ 
Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.
As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was. 
227 notes · View notes
sky-berrie · 3 years
Text
Goodnight - Damian
Summary: Damian pays you a visit at night ft. the one bed trope.
It was a typical eerie night in Gotham and as usual, you spent it alone in your room. You were completely engrossed in the murder documentary streaming on your laptop, the game of Tetris on your cell phone, and the barbeque potato chips you were shoving into your mouth. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you jumped right out of your seat and yelped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“Relax, Y/N,” said Damian, casually. “It is only me.” He was dressed in his Robin uniform. It was clean which meant that he was probably unharmed.
You scowled at him as your felt your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyes traveled to the open window. You were certain that you had secured the latch, added the anti-lift bar and activated the alarm not twenty minutes ago. Your newfound interest in murder mysteries kept you awake a night, so you amped up your security to give yourself some peace of mind. It should have been impossible for anyone to break in, but here Damian was, standing inside your apartment bedroom.
“Stop abusing your power like that,” you scolded.
“Stop leaving yourself vulnerable,” he countered, without missing a beat.
“I didn’t! Did you not see the steel bar and alarm?” you said with indignation. You had to wonder how he managed to slip in. In another life, he could be a magician, you thought.
“Indeed, I did notice,” he said. “It is quite the cute little system you have.” His smirk was as condescending as ever.
You rolled your eyes and huffed. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a big reaction out of you.
Damian’s expression softened. “I am glad that you installed that, though. Now I do not have to worry so much about you when I am away.”
You had no idea how to formulate a response to a comment that was not an insult or sarcasm. You awkwardly changed the subject instead, “So… you need something or…?”
Damian looked at you expectantly as if he was waiting for you to continue. “Do not end your sentence with a conjunction,” he chastised you. “Proper grammar is imperative for effective communication.” You rolled your eyes again. Sometimes he was insufferable.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. And sometimes he was almost sweet.
His gloved finger gently tipped your face upwards so he could inspect it thoroughly. You found his concern rather considerate until he opened his mouth again. Damian’s face contorted into an expression of disgust before he said, “You are beginning to look like Drake.” Although Tim was very attractive, you knew how Damian felt about his adoptive brother. His statement was not to be mistaken as a compliment.
You pulled away and rolled your eyes again. “Got it. You came here to annoy me. Mission accomplished. You ready to leave now?” You pointed to the window.
“I am being serious, Y/N, you look unwell…” He looked around your desk space with a horrified expression. “And I can see why. When was the last time you slept?”
“Uh,” you blew a raspberry as you thought about it. “Yester…today?” you said, but it came out as a question. Damian looked unimpressed. “No, today. Definitely today,” you stated with more confidence.
You could tell Damian didn’t buy it. “What day is it today?” he challenged.
Your eyes roamed around the room in search of clues. The date and time weren’t visible on your electronics. You took a stab in the dark. “Saturday.”
Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “It is Sunday night.”
“Oh…” you pursed your lips sheepishly. Sometimes the days blurred together.
“That is it,” he said with finality. He closed your laptop. “You are banned from watching murder mysteries videos at night.” He went for your phone next. He raised it up for you to see your game of Tetris disappearing as he powered it off. “I am confiscating your phone every evening from now on.”
“What?” you whined, lunging out for your phone. Damian tucked it away and out of reach in the inner pocket of his uniform.
“You are getting time limits. Blue light disrupts your circadian rhythm - no laptop or phone after 10 pm.” He grabbed the crinkly chip bag. “And these, well, you really should not eat these ever. Do you know how much sodium is in this bag? Your arteries will know.” He tossed the half-empty bag into the trash can beside your desk.
“No!” You protested. He had no right to order you around.
“Yes,” he asserted. You watched him fluff up your pillows, tuck the sheets firmly under the mattress, and smooth out the bed spread. “You are going to bed now. Get in.” He lifted the covers for you.
“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled humourlessly. You just wanted to finish watching the unsolved mystery of the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902 and be so terrified that you can’t sleep for the next three days.
“Y/N,” he said sternly, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.
“Fine,” you grumbled. You knew Damian was stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You figured that you would get in bed to appease him and get rid of him, then you could resume watching your video.
You stomped extra loudly across your room to make a point. You huffed loudly as you crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in as if you were a little kid.
“Good night,” said Damian.
“Yeah, bye,” you replied impatiently.
Your eyes following Damian as he flicked off your lamp. Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that Damian was taking off his Robin uniform. He stripped down to his undershirt and hung the tunic over the back of your chair before sitting down. “What are you doing?” you asked, raising yourself up on your forearms.
“I am going to stay,” he said, like it was the most normal sentence in the entire world.
“Um, come again?”
“I know you are afraid to go to sleep, so I will stay and make sure you feel safe… even though it is self inflicted fear and I ought to leave you so you learn your lesson. I do not know why you insist on watching murder mysteries knowing that you are going to be frightened.”
“While that’s a very nice offer, it’s also super unnecessary. I’m okay,” you lied. You couldn’t let him stay overnight in your chair just because you had an overactive imagination.
Damian raised a hand to silence your argument. “It is not up for debate. I will stay right here and you will get some sleep.”
“But you need to sleep, too,” you reasoned.
Damian shrugged. “I will make do here.”
Your throat was suddenly dry as you prepared to make a compromise. “You could… sleep… here… in my bed?” You prayed that he wasn’t repulsed by your invitation to share your bed. You and Damian were just friends but somewhere along the way your feelings changed. You caught yourself noticing things about him that you found attractive… like the way his eyes were so expressive and always told you what he was thinking… or how he carried himself with strength and confidence, even if it could be annoying sometimes.
You held your breath in anticipation. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. “Okay,” he casually accepted. While you were relieved that he wasn’t mortified by the thought of sharing your bed, you were a nervous wreck now.
You shuffled over to the very edge of your twin sized bed to make room for Damian. As he lay down, the side of his warm arm brushed against yours. You skittishly scooted away but tumbled out of bed.
Damian peered over the edge of the bed and his brows knit together in confusion. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you said, too quickly to sound normal. You tittered nervously as you climbed back under the covers. This time you lay on your side and faced away from him to put some distance between you two and to hide your embarrassment.
“Come closer, Y/N. I do not want you to fall off again.”
You shifted infinitesimally closer.
“Closer,” instructed Damian.
You inched towards him but left a good distance separating you two.
“There’s plenty of space here,” he encouraged.
You quickly came up with an excuse. “I toss and turn in my sleep. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”
Damian let out a hearty laugh.
“What?” you asked with indignance. You rolled over onto your back so you could see him.
“Nothing,” he denied, stifling his mirth.
“Tell me,” you demanded.
“The thought of you, in your footie pajamas, thinking that you could injure a highly skilled assassin, is quite comical. Don’t flatter yourself. Now, come here and go to sleep.” Damian patted the empty space beside him.
This time you listened and moved towards the centre of the bed. You were so close to Damian that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The warmth was drawing you even closer to him but you reprimanded yourself and forced yourself to remain eerily still to avoid another accidental contact. Damian turned his head and you felt his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Y-yeah,” you squeaked. You bit you lip anxiously. Your hand played with a loose thread on the blanket.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes,” you said, this time more confidently although you weren’t fooling him.
“You need not be afraid of the dark, Y/N, especially when I am here.”
You knew that already. You always felt safe when you were with Damian, even before you knew he was Robin. There was something comforting about his self-assurance that made situations less scary. But that’s not what was making you jittery.
“Why do you bother watching murder mysteries? They always overlook clues and never investigate thoroughly. Besides, you have a real detective right here,” Damian said, with a tone of umbrage.
You shrugged and tilted your head. “They’re fun,” was your simple answer.
Damian cocked an eyebrow. “Being so petrified that you cannot sleep alone is fun?”
“I don’t know. I guess I admire you for being Robin.” You don’t know why you said that. You really shouldn’t be feeding his ego. It’s big enough as it is. You kept talking, against your better judgement. “Watching you solve mysteries and fight for justice got me interested in true crime.”
Damian only hummed in response. He was quiet for a while and you thought that maybe he had drifted to off to sleep. Finally, he said, “Would you like to know who committed the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902?”
You gasped and turned on your side to face him. You were only a few inches away from him now, but you didn’t even register his proximity. Your anxiety was long forgotten and replaced by curiosity. “You know who did it?”
“Of course,” he confirmed.
“How?” you breathed with skepticism. The case had been undertaken by several of the most high-profile detectives and private investigators over the decades and none were able to solve it. In fact, no new leads had been uncovered in the last eighty years.
Damian rolled his eyes. “Batman and Robin are, without a doubt, the best detective duo in history. Not to mention, that case was child’s play.”
You scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Show me some proof,” you said, calling his bluff.
“Very well, then. I will show you the file the next time you visit the manor.”
“If you’ve solved it, why don’t you tell the authorities then?”
“We have. It is connected to several active cases so the GCPD is not able to release any information to the public yet.”
You scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of a fib. He didn’t waver under your intense stare, but then again, he was accustomed to the batglare so your measly glare was probably ineffective. You decided to trust him. “Who did it?”
Damian turned on his side as well and propped up his head with his arm so that he could look down at you. He pretended to think about it, building up the suspense. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll tell you tomorrow morning,” he said, almost playfully.
“What?” you exclaimed.
“Better get to sleep right away,” he warned.
You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep knowing that the answer to the city’s most enigmatic mystery was lying right beside you. You huffed angrily and flopped back down onto your mattress.
Damian let out a deep laugh in response. You grabbed a spare pillow and tried to whack him, but he anticipated your attack and caught it. “Damian Wayne, you are the absolute worst.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
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saucerfulofsins · 3 years
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1988 being alone at the UC, reminiscing after a game, cup, retirement? Idk just both of them and the stillness of a normally full arena is my jam
The arena is silent. Clean, sterile almost, now they’re heading into the summer season. In a few days, the ice will be allowed to melt—but for now its smell is still heavy in the air, that mix of cold-and-iron, indescribable but immediately recognizable.
Whenever Patrick watches a true crime documentary and somebody brings up the scent of bodies, he thinks of the rink. Not because it smells of dead bodies, of course. Just—the effect is similar, that’s all. He could go blind and deaf and he’d still know exactly where he was.
Jonny’s sitting beside him, and they’re having a cup of coffee. They wrapped up the season officially, now; a decent cup run, and they both have a few more years left in them, but it’s getting harder.
Harder to keep up physically, at least. The emotional stakes feel lower now than they did for a long, long time. Anything is better than nothing, and Patrick’s grateful to still be playing as good as he is.
“Remember that time you tried to bribe the zamboni driver?” Jonny pipes up out of nowhere.
It wasn’t a bribe, not really. Patrick just wanted to know if he could shoot the puck harder on wet ice. He could.
“Remember that time you broke a trash can and Stan made you buy a new one?” he shoots back.
Jonny hadn’t even been angry when it happened, just an idiot, half stumbling into the can. He lost his balance, put his weight on the plastic, and it snapped right in half—although earlier kicks to the damn thing can’t have helped, The guys told Stan that Jonny did it on purpose, and Patrick’s still not sure whether Stan making Jonny pay was Stan playing along with the joke or believing the guys.
“Remember when we won the cup?” Jonny smiles, propping his feet up against the chair in front of him.
“Which?” Patrick smirks. Those are the sweetest memories, still.
“All of them.” Jonny’s shoulder nudges his own. Patrick’s trying to think of something more impressive than the cup when Jonny says, “The fourth, I guess.”
Last year. It came out of left field; Patrick hadn’t thought they could do it, and afterwards, Jonny confessed that he didn’t think so either. He’d put on a face in the locker room, though, screamed enthusiasm at the team, and they pushed through a surprisingly good playoff run before almost getting decimated in the finale.
Almost, and then suddenly the spirit was back. Patrick hadn’t thought he’d get to feel the weight of the cup again, although he’d been hoping for it, of course.
It wasn’t the sweetest because of that, though. It was because afterwards, when they had done the lifting and the posing and the cheering and were getting ready to head into town, Jonny’d pulled him into a storage room.
He told Patrick “sorry” and then kissed him.
That, too, was entirely unexpected. Like the win, Patrick rolled with it, kissed Jonny back until they couldn’t stay away from the team any longer—but with promises to get back to it later. (They have, now, many times).
The rink lies empty before them, and Jonny’s hand is warm around Patrick’s. He glances around and steals a kiss now, too.
There are plenty of memories here, and there’ll be other times to reflect on those. For now, Patrick’s content to sit here a little longer, just like this.
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